


Leo Inter Serpentes: Fifth Year

by Aeternum



Series: Leo Inter Serpentes [5]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Adoption, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Everybody has daddy issues, F/F, F/M, Good Slytherins, I'm really sorry to any actual toads who may be reading this, I'm sure you're all much nicer than Umbridge, Just a fuck load of family drama in general, M/M, Minor Character Death, Multi, Occlumency is a giant headache to write as well as to learn, Parseltongue, Severitus, Slytherin Harry, The Slytherins spend much of the year plotting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-05
Updated: 2015-11-16
Packaged: 2018-03-21 09:24:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 33
Words: 215,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3686949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aeternum/pseuds/Aeternum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Getting adopted by Severus means that Harry can finally escape the Dursleys for good, but it's not all sunshine and roses. Voldemort is back and, to make matters worse, the Ministry is denying it, despite all available evidence. As if all of that wasn't bad enough, the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher has it in for Harry, and is far more interested in taking him down than in teaching anything remotely useful. What's a Slytherin to do? Why, begin plotting, of course!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In Which Harry and Severus Become a Family

Harry sat silently in the back of Uncle Vernon's car, stroking Hedwig through the bars of her cage and watching out the window as they pulled away from King's Cross station. In the front seat, Uncle Vernon was giving an angry commentary on the radio news to Aunt Petunia, who was nodding her agreement. Harry ignored them both, using the time to instead figure out how he was going to broach the subject of his adoption to them. 

In the end, Harry decided he'd talk to Aunt Petunia alone. He waited until Monday morning, when Uncle Vernon had departed for work and Dudley had gone off to meet his gang for a long day of terrifying the neighbourhood children. Aunt Petunia was in the lounge room, ostensibly dusting the window ledge. In reality, she was spying on Mrs Number Seven, the neighbour across the road who was apparently getting very friendly with the postman. Knowing that nothing put her in quite so good a mood as passing judgement on the moral failings of the neighbours, Harry turned on the kettle and waited for Aunt Petunia to come in for her mid-morning cup of tea.

Sure enough, she walked into the kitchen a few minutes later looking smug, though her smile faded when she saw Harry leaning against the bench. 

“Do you want a cuppa? It's just boiling,” Harry said, gesturing at the kettle.

“I – yes, alright,” Aunt Petunia said.

She sat down at the kitchen table and watched suspiciously as Harry bustled about getting the tea ready. He set her cup on the table in front of her and took his own to the other end. Aunt Petunia sniffed her tea before nodding minutely. 

“I wanted to talk to you about something important,” Harry blurted out. 

“What?” Aunt Petunia asked, narrowing her eyes and lowering her tea fractionally. 

“Er, well, I'm getting adopted,” Harry said.

Aunt Petunia's eyes narrowed further. “You're what?”

Harry took a deep breath and tried to actually think before speaking this time. “I'm getting adopted. Next Monday, actually. You'll never have to see me again.”

A wary delight fought the suspicion on her face. “What's the catch?”

Harry shrugged. “Well, you and Uncle Vernon just need to sign the papers. There'll be two witnesses who sign as well, and then I'll be gone. For good.”

“I assume these 'witnesses' are like you?” Aunt Petunia asked.

“Yeah, they're like me,” Harry confirmed.

Aunt Petunia looked at him calculatedly. “I can suffer the presence of two of those, if it means I'll be getting rid of you.”

Harry ran a hand through his hair. “Well, there'll be three, actually. Severus has to sign as well, since he's the one adopting me. But it shouldn't take long, I don't think.”

Aunt Petunia froze. “Severus? As in Severus Snape?”

“Yeah,” Harry said, then winced slightly. “I know you two knew each other -”

“Oh, we knew each other alright,” Aunt Petunia said venomously, taking Harry by surprise.

“Okay, well, that's not going to be a problem, is it?” Harry asked nervously. “Like I said, it should be quick, and then I'll be gone.”

“How do you know that man?” Aunt Petunia demanded.

“He's a teacher at my school.”

There was a short, incredulous laugh. “Your lot let people like him near children?”

“There's nothing wrong with him,” Harry said, trying not to glower across the table.

“That's what Lily used to say,” Aunt Petunia said.

“Well, it's true,” Harry said.

“And then,” Aunt Petunia said, seemingly not hearing him, “one summer she came home from that school and refused to see him. She made our mum send him away when he came to the door one day, but all she'd say was that he'd changed.”

“They'd had a fight, and he said something he shouldn't have,” Harry said shortly. 

Aunt Petunia laughed bitterly. “He was always saying things he shouldn't have. And now you want to go live with him?”

With some effort, Harry managed to bite back an angry retort. “Yeah, I do,” he said instead. “I already have, for a few weeks, that time I ran away from here.”

Aunt Petunia pressed her lips together so firmly that they all but disappeared. “I'm not sure this is a good idea,” she said finally. 

Harry stared at her. It almost sounded like she was worried about Harry's welfare with Severus, which was ridiculous. He almost groaned when he realised what must really be bothering her. “Look, they're just coming to sign some documents and pick me up. They're not going to do anything. And I know that both Severus and Narcissa know how to dress like Mug – er, like normal people.”

Aunt Petunia drained her tea and nodded. “Very well then.”

“Great,” Harry said in relief. “They'll be getting here at six o'clock next Monday evening. Uncle Vernon should be home from work by then, won't he?”

“I'll make sure that he is,” Aunt Petunia said.

“Great,” Harry said again. He hesitated for a few seconds as he steeled himself to bring up the other subject he'd been wanting to talk to her about. “Er, one more thing.”

“What is it now?”

“I went -” Harry stopped and sipped some more tea. “Last Christmas I visited my parents' grave. And I don't get why you never told me where they were but... Severus told me that you organised everything. The funeral, and all. So I wanted to say thank you. For that.”

“Someone had to do it, and our parents were already gone by that point,” Aunt Petunia said quietly.

“Yeah, I know,” Harry said. “But still. Thanks.”

Aunt Petunia looked at him a long time before she nodded again. “I'll speak to Vernon about next Monday.”

Harry simply nodded and got up from the table, taking his tea upstairs to his room. He flopped down onto his bed, pleased with how well things had gone. He'd write to Severus later, to tell him that the Dursleys would be home, but Hedwig was still sleeping and wouldn't want to wake up for a few more hours yet.

With nothing else to do, Harry grabbed the Quidditch strategy book that Draco had liberated from the Ravenclaw common room two years ago. The Quidditch Cup would be starting up again at Hogwarts, and after a year off, Harry was missing it dreadfully. He settled down to read it, with visions of Slytherin victories flitting through his brain.

********

  
As usual, time at the Dursleys' moved far slower than was normal. By Thursday, Harry had read through _An Introduction to Mind Magic_ twice, thrown out any potions ingredients that were going off and re-read his snake encyclopaedia. By Friday, he'd skimmed through all of his textbooks (the voice in his head that sounded like Hermione cheered him on in this endeavour) and sorted through his old sketchbooks, throwing out any old drawings he didn't like.

Saturday saw him beginning to pack up all his belongings. This took rather longer than he'd anticipated. He'd never used to have much, but since discovering his Gringotts vault he'd bought quite a bit, not to mention all the presents from his friends. He'd also had something of a growth spurt over the last few months, and had a few clothes to throw out. He ended up taking them into town on Sunday and giving them to an op shop. He popped into a music store on his way back to Privet Drive and picked up some new tapes and a Pearl Jam poster.

Early Monday morning, Harry was woken up by a soft but insistent hooting. He jammed his glasses on and looked blearily at his windowsill to see Thoth was sitting there. A frisson of dread ran through Harry as he struggled upright and turned on his lamp. Why would Draco be writing to him at this time, unless something bad had happened? He pulled the letter off Thoth's leg and gave him an owl treat from the stash in his bedside table, then unrolled the parchment.

For a moment, Harry thought his eyesight had gotten inexplicably worse since he'd gone to bed. Then he realised that not only had Draco written in Parseltongue, but his handwriting was also far messier than usual. Harry had to hold the letter directly under his lamp in order to read it.

_Dear Harry,_  
_Sorry if you're already in bed when you get this. I told Thoth to make sure you got it as soon as he arrived, so I imagine he's probably woken you up._

_Theo ran away from his father tonight. He's hiding here at the Manor, where he'll be staying for the foreseeable future. His father hit him, but before you go feeling guilty, it wasn't just about his being friends with you. There was the whole Muggle Studies issue, and he absolutely loathes Theo's relationship with Tracey. Anyway, his father actually tried to lock him in his room today; he didn't want him going back to Hogwarts, since Theo refused to obey him. He forgot about the house-elves, though, so Theo simply packed up all his possessions and got one of the elves to let him out before Flooing over here._

_What scares me the most is that Mother didn't seem at all surprised by Theo's story. She was upset, obviously, but she seemed to almost be expecting it. I think this means that Crabbe and Goyle will be acting rather differently towards us the next time we meet._

_Theo says to say hello and not to worry about him. He's also telling me to warn you not to tell anyone where he is; he doesn't want his father finding out. He must think you're an idiot, as surely the fact that I'm writing in sodding Parseltongue tipped you off that this is to be kept secret. Let Snape know, though. If there's going to be a war in the dorm this year (Theo's prediction, not mine), he'll want to know._

_Good luck with the adoption tomorrow. I wish I could be there, but Mother says it wouldn't be appropriate, and in any case, I don't really want to leave Theo alone for too long right now. He says he's not upset over his father, but I don't believe him. For one thing, I have my own fair share of experience with an arsehole of a father. More importantly, he showed no sign of interest in plotting revenge when I suggested it. If it were anyone else I'd be reassured, but it's Theo. He loves payback._

_Anyway, I didn't mean to worry you. I'll be keeping an eye on him (Quidditch should work well as a distraction), and Mother says that you can come visit after you're all settled in with Snape. God, that feels weird to write! I'll get used to it quickly enough, I suppose. I expect to hear all about it when I see you. Hopefully that won't be too long._

_I'll be thinking of you tomorrow._  
_Love,_  
_Draco_

“Fuck,” Harry breathed heavily, staring down at the letter. He re-read it quickly, the unique mixture of English letters and Draco's made up, serpentine characters easier to read the second time around, then grabbed a piece of paper off his desk and scribbled out a reply. It took some time, given that he wasn't used to writing in Parseltongue. He hoped it said what he thought it said.

_Dear Draco,_  
_Thoth did wake me up, but it's fine. Better than getting woken up by nightmares. I'm glad you told me about Theo, and I hope you're both okay. If you want to keep him busy, maybe suggest he helps you plan some defences for the dorm? I don't think Greg or Vince will try anything, even if they're getting pressured by their dads, but looking up new spells might cheer Theo up a bit._

_I'm sending this with Hedwig so that Thoth can have a bit of a rest. I'll send him back to you in a few hours. I'll see you soon, I'm sure._

_Love,_  
_Harry_

Harry folded up the letter and handed it to Hedwig. “Take this to Draco. I'll meet you at Severus' tonight, okay?” he said, stroking her head.

Hedwig hopped onto his outstretched hand and butted her head against his shoulder before she took off through the window. Harry stood for a minute, watching her get smaller and smaller in the pre-dawn light. When she'd disappeared he carried Thoth over to Hedwig's cage and gave him another owl treat. Thoth gulped it down and then settled on the perch to sleep. Harry checked his watch and sighed. It was nearly six o'clock: no point trying to get back to sleep now. Instead, he went downstairs to have breakfast before anyone else was up. 

He nearly made it. He was just washing his dishes in the sink when Uncle Vernon walked in. He eyed the frying pan in Harry's hands unpleasantly.

“You didn't finish the bacon, did you, boy?”

“No,” Harry said, rolling his eyes.

Uncle Vernon merely grunted and turned on the kettle. Harry finished the dishes and dried his hands.

“They'd better be on time,” Uncle Vernon said.

Harry rolled his eyes again before he turned around. “Severus and McGonagall are the two strictest teachers in school. Trust me when I say they'll be on time.”

Uncle Vernon grunted. “Make sure that room's spotless after you've packed.”

Harry walked upstairs wondering just how many times he could roll his eyes before he did some damage. He spent the rest of the day packing and cleaning his room, pausing only for a quick lunch before getting back into it. By the time he finished, he was wishing desperately for his own house-elf. He settled for a long shower.

Harry returned to his room and chucked his toiletries into his trunk, then looked around. Apart from his trunk, on which were stacked his Firebolt, a backpack, and Hedwig's cage, his room looked like he'd never been there. He'd even sent Thoth back to Malfoy Manor before his shower. He checked his watch – twenty minutes to five – and flopped onto the stripped down bed. What was he supposed to do for an hour and twenty minutes? He stared up at the ceiling in frustration. He was fully packed, he'd cleaned the room... He could always start his holiday homework, but he was too tingly with anticipation to concentrate properly. More importantly, beginning one's holiday homework a mere week after school had ended was something people like Hermione or Tracey did. Harry had no intention of becoming a swot. 

Harry sighed and got to his feet. If he stayed inside he'd go crazy. He needed to get out of the house. 

“Where do you think you're going?” Aunt Petunia asked sharply as he walked towards the front door. 

“For a walk. I'll be back before they arrive,” Harry said, then slipped outside. The door swung shut behind him, cutting off her reply.

Harry walked aimlessly for a while, wilting a bit in the hot summer sun. He caught sight of the local high school up ahead and decided to go and say hello to the grass snake one last time. He jumped over the chain-link fence and walked through the deserted campus.

Like every other time he'd come to Stonewall High to see the grass snake, Harry couldn't help being thankful that he hadn't ended up going there. It seemed a perfectly fine school, but going there would have meant that he never escaped the Dursleys. The thought made him check his watch again: just past five. Plenty of time to get back to Privet Drive. He crossed the football pitch and was soon picking his way through the field, which was already going brown as the grass faced the summer heat. 

“ _Is anyone here?_ ” Harry called. He stood there, feeling stupid, before a faint voice answered.

“ _Human boy?_ ”

Harry spent a good quarter of an hour listening to the grass snake, who had recently laid a clutch of eggs. Harry had learned far more about the mechanics of snake sex, what it felt like to lay eggs, and how to care for said eggs (under a pile of rotting compost, which he declined to visit), than he'd ever wanted to before he managed to get a word in.

“ _Good luck with your hatchlings. I'm sorry I won't see them._ ”

The snake reared up slightly. “ _Why not?_ ”

“ _I'm moving away and won't be coming back_ ,” Harry explained. 

The snake flicked her tongue out. “ _About time, human boy_.”

“ _What?_ ” Harry asked.

“ _You're leaving to go find a mate, aren't you? It's about time, you must be at least four by now!_ ”

Harry blinked at the snake. “ _I'm nearly fifteen_ ,” he said eventually.

“ _Fifteen?_ ” the snake reared up. “ _You better get a move on if you want to breed before you die!_ ”

“ _I think I've got a bit of time left_ ,” Harry said with a grin.

“ _If you say so_ ,” the snake said doubtfully. 

“ _I'll be fine. Anyway, it's been nice knowing you_ ,” Harry said.

“ _And you, human boy_ ,” the snake replied, setting back down into the grass.

Harry walked back the way he'd come, before he decided to take a shortcut and walk down the alley that led to Magnolia Crescent. He'd just turned into the alley when he bumped into something large and solid. He looked up and groaned. Just his luck to run into Dudley. 

“Watch where you're going, Potter.”

“Ooh, I'm sorry,” Harry said sarcastically, backing away with his hands held up in the air. “Don't let me get in your way to beating up eight-year-olds.”

“I don't beat up eight-year-olds,” Dudley snarled.

“Nine-year-olds, then. Or have you finally cracked the double digits and found a ten-year-old you can take?” Harry put on an overly innocent expression, as if he were genuinely interested.

Dudley narrowed his eyes. “You wouldn't be mouthing off if you hadn't had that blonde bitch threaten us.”

Harry's lip curled and he took a step forward. “You think so? A couple of weeks ago I got tortured by the madman who murdered my parents, while my friends' dads watched and laughed. I told him to fuck off. So what do you think I'll do to you if I hear you talk about Narcissa like that again today?”

Dudley gaped at him, visibly thinking. “What about tomorrow?” he eventually asked. 

“What?”

“You said today. What happens if I say anything tomorrow?” Dudley asked smugly, clearly thinking he had outwitted Harry.

“Don't see why you would. You'll never see either of us again.”

“I won't?”

“What, you think I'm going to come back here to visit? Reminisce about all the fun times we had together?” Harry laughed. 

Dudley just stared at him.

“Did your parents not tell you?” Harry finally asked. “I'm getting adopted today and getting the hell out of here.”

Dudley snorted. “Someone wants _you?_ ”

“Yeah. Quite a few people, actually. So if you'll excuse me, I better get back to Privet Drive. I want to be there to see it if Severus decides to hex your mum.”

When Dudley didn't reply, Harry walked around him and down the alley. He knew he shouldn't be upset that Dudley didn't bother to say goodbye to him (he shouldn't even be surprised, really), but Harry found himself unexpectedly saddened by it. It reminded him too much of being locked in his cupboard, forgotten out of sight while Dudley was fussed over by his parents... Trapped in the dark with only the spiders for company, with only a couple of broken tin soldiers to play with... Crying silently, lest his sobs could be heard over the television and enraged Uncle Vernon any more... Hungry and thirsty... Cold... So very, very cold... 

Harry shivered and realised that the cold he was feeling wasn't just memories from the cupboard. Night had fallen, and brought with it a sharp drop in temperature. Harry frowned. It wasn't even six o'clock yet, it shouldn't be getting dark for hours. He stopped and looked around. The alley, which had previously been shadowy but still fairly well lit, was now almost entirely dark. He couldn't see the end of it any more. With a jolt he realised he could no longer hear the sounds of traffic, either. It was as if someone had cut the alley off from the outside world, leaving Harry alone in the cold, silent darkness. 

No, not entirely alone, Harry realised. He drew his wand as he heard a long, slow, rattling breath. He was wrong, he had to be wrong, they couldn't be here, not in Little Whinging... Harry backed away, shaking his head in disbelief as the silhouette of a Dementor came gliding towards him through the darkness. 

“ _Expecto patronum_ ,” he whispered, half-convinced this was a nightmare.

His wand flared silver for a moment, but his fawn didn't appear. The Dementor continued to advance on him. Harry stumbled backwards and focused on the thought of getting adopted, of getting away from the Dursleys for good. “ _Expecto patronum!_ ”

This time, his Patronus emerged properly. It charged straight at the Dementor and head butted it, sending it flying backwards before it retreated, swooping up and away into the night. The fawn watched it flee then returned to Harry, who smiled gratefully at it. A cry behind him made him spin around to find Dudley, crouched in front of another Dementor, cradling his head in his hands as it loomed over him.

“Get it!” Harry urged his Patronus. 

The fawn sprinted off towards the second Dementor and head butted it as well. It flew off, leaving the fawn shining brightly at the mouth of the alley as if waiting for another threat before it faded away. With the departure of the Dementors the alley went back to normal. The summer heat returned along with the light, and Harry could clearly see Dudley shaking and crying on the ground. Casting a wary look around him, Harry made his way over to his cousin.

“You okay?”

Dudley merely whimpered.

“Dudley, come on, you need to get up. They might come back,” Harry said quietly. When Dudley merely whimpered again, he groaned and began heaving at one of Dudley's arms. “Come on!”

“It's not true... It's not true...” Dudley moaned suddenly.

Harry paused, momentarily wondering what it was that the Dementor had made Dudley remember. “I know. Now come on. Let's get you home.”

At the mention of home, Dudley allowed himself to be hauled to his feet. Harry's knees nearly buckled under the weight of holding Dudley upright. “You need to walk, I can't carry you.”

Dudley began shuffling his feet in small, jerky steps, though Harry was still supporting most of his weight. Harry gritted his teeth and helped Dudley along as best he could, all the while cursing how light out it still was. If it had have been night, he might have been able to risk levitating Dudley, since he was already bound to get in trouble for casting a Patronus Charm. 

As it was, he half-carried, half-dragged Dudley all the way back to Number 4 Privet Drive. They came across a group of children, but they rode off on their bikes when they saw Dudley coming towards them. Harry was drenched with sweat by the time he got Dudley to the doorstep of Number 4. He rang the bell and waited impatiently as Uncle Vernon's bulk came into view through the warped glass.

“We're not interested in whatever you're selling!” Uncle Vernon called, not bothering to open the door.

“It's Dudley and me!” Harry shouted back. 

The door was yanked open, and Uncle Vernon looked at them in surprise. “Dudley? What are you doing home already?”

“They here yet?” Harry asked.

“What did you do to him?” Uncle Vernon asked, noticing Dudley's pale, clammy face for the first time. 

Harry just pushed Dudley onto Uncle Vernon and squeezed past them into the hallway. He was halfway to the kitchen when he heard the sound of Dudley vomiting all over the door mat. He ignored it and entered the kitchen, sagging in relief when he found Severus, Narcissa and McGonagall already there. 

Severus was leaning against the wall, holding a thin leather folder and smirking faintly as he watched Aunt Petunia aggressively chopping up vegetables for dinner whilst glaring at him. McGonagall was watching him with amused disapproval. Narcissa was pacing impatiently in front of the patio doors. She spotted Harry first and stopped dead.

“What happened?” she asked.

“Dementors,” Harry said.

Severus pushed off the wall and Aunt Petunia dropped her knife. 

“What?” all four adults asked. 

Harry spared a curious look for Aunt Petunia before addressing the others. “Two of them. They caught us in an alley. I had to cast a Patronus to get away from them.”

Just then Uncle Vernon appeared in the doorway, leading a still clearly shaken Dudley.

“Diddykins!” Aunt Petunia shrieked and rushed over to him. 

“He'll be fine if you give him some chocolate,” Harry said.

“Did they follow you?” Severus asked Harry.

He shook his head. “No. Well, I don't think so. My Patronus drove them both off, but I had to practically carry Dudley home, so I couldn't really check behind me.”

McGonagall walked out of the kitchen and down the corridor to the front door, which Harry heard her open. 

“Severus, we need to hurry this along,” Narcissa announced. “I'll Apparate to the Ministry and tell them what's happened before they -”

“No you will not!” Uncle Vernon shouted. “You need to stay here and explain what happened to my son!”

“A Dementor attempted to remove his soul,” McGonagall answered, walking back into the room. “Harry saved him with the Patronus Charm. Your son will recover quicker if you give him chocolate like Harry told you to.”

“I'll not take orders from the boy!” Uncle Vernon blustered. 

McGonagall raised an eyebrow. “Not even to hasten your son's recovery? How utterly foolish.”

“Will this do?” 

Everyone turned in surprise to find Aunt Petunia standing in front of the pantry holding up a block of Cadbury.

“Yeah,” Harry said. He walked over, broke off a few pieces for himself and then handed the rest of the block to Dudley. 

Just as Harry popped the chocolate into his mouth, a large barn owl flew in through the open kitchen window. It swooped towards Harry, dropped an envelope at his feet and flew back out of the window in seconds. Harry bent down and picked it up, shooting a puzzled look at Severus before he ripped open the letter.

_Dear Mr Potter,_  
_We have received intelligence that you performed the Patronus Charm at thirteen minutes to six this evening in a Muggle-inhabited area and in the presence of a Muggle._

_The severity of this breach of the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery has resulted in your expulsion from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Ministry representatives will be calling at your place of residence shortly to destroy your wand._

_As you have already received an official warning for a previous offence under Section 13 of the International Confederation of Warlocks' Statute of Secrecy, we regret to inform you that your presence is required at a disciplinary hearing at the Ministry of Magic at 9am on the 22nd of July._

_Hoping you are well,_  
_Yours sincerely,_  
_Mafalda Hopkirk_  
_Use of Magic Office_  
_of Magic_

“They've expelled me,” he said numbly. 

He handed the letter to Severus, who read it with McGonagall peering over his shoulder. 

“They can't,” Severus declared once he'd finished. 

“Only the Headmaster has the authority to expel you,” McGonagall agreed. “Once we're done here, I'll go to him at once. He'll need to know about this.”

“Could somebody bloody well tell us what is going on here!” Uncle Vernon thundered. 

“Your son and nephew were attacked by Dementors this evening. Whilst non-fatal, they are capable of extracting a person's soul through their mouth. Harry fought them off and brought your son back home,” Severus said.

“But why were they here? I thought they guarded Azkaban,” Aunt Petunia said, then clapped her hand over her mouth and stared around the room with wide eyes. 

Severus rolled his own eyes at her reaction. “Normally, yes. It's possible that the Dark Lord sent them here after Harry...”

“Who's this Dark Lord, then?” Uncle Vernon asked.

“Only the person responsible for the murder of your in-laws,” McGonagall said, shocked. 

“He's back?” Aunt Petunia asked fearfully.

“Yeah. But don't worry, you'll be safer with me gone,” Harry said.

“Good,” said Uncle Vernon.

“Much as I would love to sit through another hour of listening to this fool -” she glared at Uncle Vernon “- be appallingly insensitive, I really should be going,” Narcissa said pointedly.

Severus nodded and placed the folder on the table and pulled out two certificates. Harry looked at them curiously. One was from the Office for Births, Deaths and Marriages, which Harry was amused to see was part of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, and one from the Muggle General Register Office. Apart from the magical certificate asking about the magical statuses of the child, their biological parents and the adoptive parents; and requiring the signatures of two witnesses, the forms were exactly the same. Severus signed both forms and then held out the pen to Aunt Petunia. 

“You and your husband need to sign where indicated to relinquish all responsibilities towards Harry,” he said coldly.

Aunt Petunia looked at Severus with disdain for a few seconds before she condescended to take the pen and sign. Uncle Vernon had no such qualms, and signed quickly and eagerly. Narcissa and McGonagall signed at the very end of the magical form.

“Is that it, then? Are we rid of him?” Uncle Vernon asked once they'd finished. 

“Quite,” Severus said with a sneer, putting the forms back into the folder. “Harry, fetch your belongings.”

Harry ran upstairs to his old room. He gave it a quick final check, then shouldered his backpack, tucked his Firebolt under his arm and picked up his trunk and Hedwig's cage. He dragged them downstairs and into the kitchen.

“Harry, I'll come by after I've been to the Ministry and let you know what's happening,” Narcissa said, walking out with the folder.

Severus shrank down Harry's belongings. As Harry was shoving them into his backpack, Severus looked at Aunt Petunia. “Much as I doubt you will ever want or need to get in contact with Harry, should the occasion arise, I would prefer that you didn't attempt to do so directly. Messages can be sent through the Headmaster; I believe you remember how to write to him.”

For some reason, Aunt Petunia went red at this, and merely nodded.

Severus ignored Dudley and Uncle Vernon, and put his hand on Harry's shoulder. “Come on, Harry.”

Harry looked back at the Dursleys, none of whom seemed inclined to bid him farewell. “Bye,” he said, then allowed Severus to steer him out of the room behind McGonagall. He turned back at the front door, unable to resist one last jab. “By the way, I'm gay!” he shouted down the hallway. There was the sound of something breaking as Severus shut the front door with a chuckle.

He felt a giddy happiness steal over him as he walked down the footpath next to Severus and McGonagall. He was finally free of the Dursleys; he wasn't expelled from Hogwarts - 

“Are they really going to snap my wand?” Harry asked, belatedly remembering the other part of the letter.

Severus simply sped up, urging Harry to do the same with a squeeze of his shoulder. “Wait until we get home.”

Home. The word echoed in Harry's head, driving away his worry over the Ministry. They walked into the alley Narcissa used for Apparition (thankfully not the same one Harry had faced the Dementors in), and a second later Severus had Apparated himself and Harry to an empty field. McGonagall Apparated beside them a second later.

Harry looked around him curiously. It looked like the moor where Severus lived (Harry could see the dead tree he'd always thought looked like a scarecrow), but there was a distinct lack of any sort of dwelling. He frowned as he realised he couldn't remember what the house had looked like.

“What happened to your house?” he asked, startled.

McGonagall smiled. “Fen House is right here, Mr Potter.”

Harry's jaw dropped open as in front of him, Severus' property seemed to grow out of the ground. The main house and barn popped up, along with Harry's memories of both buildings, which he hadn't realised he'd forgotten. Both structures were quickly being partly obscured by the overgrown garden.

“We performed the Fidelius Charm. As Severus' Secret-Keeper, I'm the only person who could tell you about the place,” McGonagall said. “Now, I really must go see Albus.”

She Disapparated away with a quiet pop, leaving Harry alone with Severus. “Welcome home, Harry,” he said with a smile.

Harry grinned. “Thanks, Sev – er, do I still call you Severus?”

“I've no intention of becoming some hippy parent whose child addresses them by their given name. You may choose from any traditional form of paternal address.”

“Okay... _Dad_ ,” Harry said. It felt weird to call a living person that. He had no idea when babies started talking, but his only memory of addressing James was when he'd seen him in the Mirror of Erised, and more recently in the graveyard.

To his surprise, Severus frowned. “Are you sure you wish to use that particular word? I was under the impression that you used it to refer to your father – I mean, Pot – ah, James.”

Harry shrugged. “It's not like I'm the first person to have two dads.”

Severus' smile returned before he cleared his throat and began walking to the house. “You will still have to address me as 'sir' or 'Professor' at school.”

“Yes, Dad,” Harry said, grinning again. 

Once inside, Severus made a beeline for the kettle. Harry sat down at the kitchen table and watched as Severus began getting the tea things out.

“So, my wand?” Harry prompted.

Severus leaned against the kitchen bench and looked at him grimly. “Normally, it wouldn't even be an option. You'd get a warning letter, possibly a fine, given that you have already received a warning for this offence before.”

“So what's changed?” Harry asked.

“You've angered the Minister for Magic, along with a lot of other Ministry employees.”

Harry stared at him. “How?”

“You told the truth about the Dark Lord's return. The Ministry does not want to accept that he has returned, and so they're hiding from the truth,” Severus said sourly. “In this case, that means slandering both you and Dumbledore in the _Daily Prophet_.”

Harry looked at him warily. “Is it worse than Skeeter?”

Severus picked up the whistling kettle and filled the teapot. “It's different. They're not making up stories about you, as such. They've instead chosen to make your name a byword for an attention-seeking liar. Taken separately, each story is relatively harmless. But with one or two stories a day mentioning you in this manner, it builds up the idea that only a gullible fool would believe anything you have to say.”

Harry frowned as Severus poured out the tea. He stirred in the milk and blew on his cup. “That doesn't sound too bad,” he said finally. “I mean, not many people believed me when I said I didn't enter the Triwizard Tournament, and I just had to learn to ignore them.”

Severus shook his head. “It is a concerted smear campaign instigated by the Ministry. I cannot see them easing up until they are forced to concede that the Dark Lord is indeed back. Getting you expelled would have bolstered their position. With Dumbledore unwilling to allow that to happen, they'll try harder to get you in to court.”

“But it was self-defence! What was I supposed to do, let the Dementors kiss Dudley and me?”

“Of course not. But the Ministry will try to say that you've made the entire thing up. The only other witness is your cousin, who as a Muggle, cannot even see Dementors.”

“But you -”

“I saw you return home shaken,” Severus said, “and your cousin certainly displayed the symptoms I would expect to see from a Muggle having just encountered a Dementor. I would of course testify to that, as would Minerva and Narcissa.”

“So I have to go to that trial then?” Harry asked.

Severus sipped his tea. “I very much hope not. When I was questioned before Black's trial, I was all but accused outright of fabricating the story. Minerva told me she suffered the same treatment. And that was just for a trial wherein the Ministry was forced to admit they were mistaken with Black. Admitting they've been mistaken about the Dark Lord won't be any easier.”

Harry swirled his tea dejectedly. “So I'm screwed?”

“I never said that. Have you forgotten who has just gone to the Ministry on your behalf?”

“Narcissa. But – oh. Ohh!” Harry looked up to find Severus smirking at him.

“Exactly. She wields a considerable amount of influence at the Ministry. She comes from one of the oldest and richest pure-blood families, and married into another. Together with Lucius, she has given a lot of money to a lot of different Ministerial departments over the years. Just look at Lucius' arrest and subsequent imprisonment; Narcissa came through that with no loss to her own social or political standing,” Severus said admiringly.

“I'll take your word for it,” Harry said. “I don't know much about all that.”

Severus gave him a look that said he'd be rectifying that later. “There's also the fact that Minerva has gone to apprise the Headmaster of the situation. Despite Fudge doing his best to discredit him, Dumbledore still has quite a bit of clout with at the Ministry.”

Harry nodded, feeling a little more hopeful now. “So we just wait until she gets here?”

“More or less,” Severus said. 

Harry pouted into his tea. Waiting was definitely not his strong point. “If the Ministry is still able to deny him returning, does that mean that Voldemort hasn't been up to much? I haven't heard anything on the Muggle news that could have been him, I don't think.”

“We haven't heard anything, no, and we no longer have a spy like last time,” Severus said. “Dumbledore is trying to find someone who could replace me, with little luck so far. The only other members of the Order with any Death Eater ties are Narcissa and Black, and they're very obviously too loyal to you to become convincing spies.”

Harry frowned. “What's this Order?”

“The Order of the Phoenix is a secret organisation founded by Dumbledore, which is dedicated to fighting the Dark Lord. He has reformed it in the last week.”

“And you're in it?” Harry asked.

“I joined when I defected from the Death Eaters. Most of the original living members have returned, with the exception of Pettigrew and the Longbottoms.”

Harry leaned forward. “Can I join?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Why not? I can help! I fought him a couple of weeks ago!”

“And acquitted yourself admirably. I do not deny that in the slightest. But you're only fourteen, Harry.”

“Fifteen soon,” Harry muttered.

Severus rolled his eyes. “Yes, you'll be fifteen soon. You're still underage.”

“Then I'll join as soon as I turn seventeen,” Harry said.

“Once you're seventeen I won't be able to stop you,” Severus said grudgingly. “But until then, you're under my protection. You're not the only person with a parent in the Order, you know.”

“Who else?” Harry asked curiously. 

“Draco and the Weasleys.”

“And they're all okay with being left out?” Harry asked.

Severus shrugged. “It's not my problem if they are. My only concern is you, and you're not joining. I can, however, let you know some of what we are doing. I trust you enough for that. And I'll take you to Order headquarters. I won't be able to get out of that.”

“Why not? Where are they?” asked Harry.

“I can't tell you that.”

“You just said you trust me!” Harry protested.

“And I do. But I literally cannot tell you where headquarters are. Only the Secret-Keeper can do that,” said Severus.

“It's under the Fidelius Charm too?”

“Exactly.”

Harry frowned at his tea, then downed it in one. “Your house -”

“Yours too,” Severus interrupted.

“Right, okay. _Our_ house – is it under Fidelius because of me?” 

“Yes,” Severus said, holding Harry's gaze. “Though I doubt I'm particularly popular with the Death Eaters.”

“Sorry -”

“Don't,” Severus said sharply. “I knew what I was getting into. Furthermore, if I had not adopted you, I believe there is a high chance Dumbledore would have begun pressuring me to return to espionage.”

“So now the Order's down a spy, too,” Harry said. “All because I wanted a family.”

Severus glared at him. “As I said earlier, Dumbledore is trying to find a replacement. He was considering Mundungus Fletcher, a petty thief with useful contacts in the criminal world, but after today I doubt he'll be trusted with anything important.”

“What happened today?”

“He was supposed to be guarding you, and you were attacked by Dementors on his watch. I'd wager he thought you'd be safe enough with Minerva, Narcissa and myself arriving for the adoption, and left early – if he even bothered to show up at all,” Severus said bitterly.

“This Fletcher bloke's been guarding me?” Harry asked.

“There have been a small group of Order members watching you in rotation, ever since you arrived in Surrey this past week,” Severus said.

Harry gaped at him. “What?”

“You never noticed them following you?” Severus asked, frowning intently.

“I only left the house twice. Once to take clothes to an op shop, and then today, to say goodbye to the grass snake,” Harry said defensively.

Severus blinked. “Grass snake?” 

“I met her a few years ago, and I go talk to her every summer,” Harry explained, feeling a little embarrassed. “Apart from Hedwig, she's been my only friend while I'm at the Dursleys'. I'm going to miss her.”

After a moment Severus nodded. “Yes, well... We're going to work on your observational skills.”

Harry perked up. “Like spy training? Cool!”

“It's not a game, Harry,” Severus snapped.

“I know that, Dad,” Harry said. “Sorry, Dad.”

Severus raised an eyebrow. “I know what you're doing, Harry.”

Harry widened his eyes, aiming for the innocent puppy look of Draco's that worked so well on him. “What am I doing?”

“Emotionally manipulating me so I won't get angry with you,” Severus said.

Harry dropped the innocent look. “Did it work?”

“Yes.”

Harry grinned. 

Severus rolled his eyes. “Go to your room.”

Harry gave him a puzzled look as he picked up his backpack and stood up; Severus didn't sound angry, so he didn't know why he was being sent to his room. It wasn't something Harry had been expecting the first day, but he had to admit it wasn't that bad, since it wasn't accompanied by threats of physical violence.

He pushed open the door and stopped abruptly. The bed and desk he'd used last time were still there, but were no longer surrounded by overcrowded bookshelves, and the bed had been magically enlarged into a double. The single remaining bookshelf was completely bare. Sandwiched into the corner next to it was a thin wardrobe. There was a tall chest of drawers at the foot of the bed, and a bedside table underneath the window, between his bed and desk. Hedwig was already waiting for him, sleeping on the headboard of the bed. She stirred at his entrance and trilled a sleepy greeting.

Harry put his backpack on the desk and sank down onto the bed and looked slowly around the room. It was his – all his, with none of Dudley's old broken possessions taking up space. He got up and pulled his shrunken belongings on the desk.

“I can remove the bookshelf if you'd like a larger wardrobe,” Severus said from behind him. He returned Harry's things to their proper size, then continued. “You may paint the walls if you like, and buy new bedding if you -”

He was cut off by Harry hugging him fiercely. He pulled away and grinned up at him. “It's perfect. Well, I'd like to paint it, but apart from that it's perfect.”

Severus' lips twitched. “You are embarrassingly easy to please.”

Harry shrugged. “Ten years in a cupboard.”

Severus' face grew stony at that. “I'll take you to a paint shop tomorrow,” was all he said.


	2. In Which Narcissa Enjoys More Blackmailing and the Order of the Phoenix Gains a New Recruit

Over dinner, Harry told Severus about Theo running away from home. Much like Draco had said of Narcissa, Severus wasn't surprised by the news. 

“I knew his father. It has become increasingly obvious the past few years that Edmund Nott does not share Theodore's world views,” Severus said, sending the dishes to the sink with a flick of his wand. “I was not perhaps expecting the situation to escalate quite so quickly, but Edmund has always been crude and unsubtle. Attempting to imprison his son is exactly the sort of action he would take in an effort to gain favour with the Dark Lord.”

“Do you think Theo's right about Greg and Vince? That we'll have a war in the dorm?” Harry asked.

Severus frowned. “I doubt it... Their fathers will certainly have told them not to socialise with you – and likely not with Draco – but I don't think they would go so far as to attack you. Not this early. The Dark Lord is still refraining from making any overt moves, and at this stage, not many people believe he is back. If you were to be suddenly attacked by boys you had previously been friendly with – boys whose fathers you have named as Death Eaters – it would make you seem far more credible.”

Harry nodded thoughtfully. “So... I should goad them into having a go at me so that people believe me?”

“No,” Severus snapped. “Mr Nott is being overly dramatic. I find it unlikely that Mr Zabini would not side with him. Even Mr Crabbe is capable of seeing that he and Mr Goyle would be outnumbered two to one.”

Harry nodded again. “You've put a lot of thought into the politics of my dorm.”

“Necessary duty as Head of Slytherin,” Severus said with a sigh. “It's not just your dormitory that worries me. The Carrow sisters have an aunt and uncle who are Death Eaters.”

A chill went down Harry's spine. The Carrow twins shared a dorm with Scarlett and Archie, and Harry couldn't remember either girl ever saying anything nice about the twins. “Anyone else?”

Severus shook his head slowly. “Not that I know of, but that doesn't mean much. The Dark Lord will be recruiting soon, if he isn't already.”

“Do you think any of my other friends will have relatives that join?” Harry asked. He didn't want to think it, but given that two thirds of his dorm had Death Eater fathers... “I know Tracey's won't.”

“No, the Davis family would never join, though I cannot speak for the families of your other classmates. But I was actually referring to the older students. Disaffected, angry teenagers make good targets for recruitment,” Severus said. 

Harry winced; from his tone, he knew that Severus was speaking about himself. He cast about wildly for a change of topic. “Why'd you call this place 'Fen House'? It's not very imaginative, is it?”

“I didn't name it, a previous owner did,” Severus said. “I simply never bothered to change it, as it's rather an apt moniker.”

“I guess...” Harry said. 

Severus got up to put the kettle on, stopping when a silvery tiger suddenly appeared in the lounge room and prowled over to them. Harry gawked in surprise as Narcissa's cultured tones issued from the tiger's mouth.

“Severus, I have someone who wishes to speak to you and Harry. She's unaware of your location.”

Its message delivered, the Patronus faded away.

“You never told me they can speak!” Harry said accusingly.

“I'll teach you later,” Severus said distractedly and pulled out his wand. “ _Expecto patronum_.” His doe burst out of his wand and stood expectantly before him. “For Narcissa Malfoy. Meet me at the clock tower.”

Harry watched with interest as the doe galloped into the lounge room before fading away.

“Fetch a jacket if you need one and make sure you have your wand on you,” Severus instructed.

“My wand? But I'm already in trouble for using underage magic!”

Severus looked at him intently. “I thought you knew the Trace doesn't quite work for children living with magical parents.”

“Yeah, but -”

“Well then. As your parent, I don't give a damn if you use magic around the house. However, if you try to leave the house without your wand on you, I'll ground you for the rest of the summer.”

Harry nodded and ran out of the kitchen and up the stairs, grabbing his wand and a jumper from his room and racing back downstairs. “Ready.”

Severus nodded and led the way outside. A few paces outside the gate, he held up his arm. Harry grasped it and after a few seconds of the terrible constriction of Apparition, he found himself standing in front of an elaborate clock tower in a darkened town square. There were a few people walking away down the nearest side street, evidently having just left the pub.

“Where are we?” he asked, looking around them.

“Stratford-upon-Avon,” Severus replied, also looking around warily. “It happens to be almost perfectly in between Cerrigydrudion and London, and fairly close to Wiltshire.”

“And you and Narcissa have met here before?” Harry pressed.

Severus tensed when there was a scuffling sound on the far side of the square, which turned out to be a stray dog. He eyed it suspiciously until it had trotted off down the street. “Not together, no. The Order has a few meeting points scattered across the countryside that we use in the event that we need a neutral meeting place – such as when someone is unable to get to a property under the Fidelius Charm, for example.”

Harry scanned the darkened shop fronts surrounding them. “Who exactly _can_ get to your – er, _our_ house?”

“Aside from the two of us? Minerva, obviously, as my Secret-Keeper. Albus, Narcissa, Draco, Miss Granger, Lupin and Black.”

“Sirius can get to your house?” Harry asked in surprise.

Severus grimaced. “Reciprocal arrangement.”

“Huh. You can call Hermione and the rest of my friends by their first names, you know,” Harry said. “I mean, Narcissa always refers to Draco's friends by their first names.”

“I suppose,” Severus conceded.

They both spun around at the sound of footsteps coming from behind them. A few seconds later Narcissa emerged from an alleyway, accompanied by - 

“Gemma!” Harry cried in surprised delight.

“Hi Harry!” she said, giving him a hug then holding out her hand to Severus. “Professor.”

He glanced at Harry before he shook her hand. “You are no longer at school. Call me Severus.”

Gemma's eyebrows shot up, but she recovered quickly. “Only if you call me Gemma.”

“Let's talk in the pub, I'm dying for a drink,” Narcissa interjected.

Harry's heart sank as he trailed after her. “Things didn't go well?”

“Oh, everything worked out. Eventually. Gemma was luckily very helpful,” Narcissa said, shooting a grateful look at her.

“No one sweet talks my boss as well as I do,” Gemma said, winking at Harry.

“Who's your boss?” he asked.

“Amelia Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement,” she said.

“As soon I explained the situation, Gemma convinced Bones to meet with me then and there, so I was able to speak to her before Fudge did.”

“Fudge was involved?” Severus asked sharply.

“Heavily,” Narcissa said wearily. 

She pushed open the pub door and stepped inside, heading straight for the bar. Minutes later, they were seated in a corner table with their drinks, protected by a privacy charm courtesy of Severus.

“And so?” he asked.

Narcissa took a large swallow of her wine before continuing. “I managed to convince Bones you were telling the truth about the Dementors, Harry. She was just about to go down to the Improper Use of Magic Office herself, when Fudge stormed in ranting about you.”

“Which is the worst thing he could've possibly done. If there's anything Bones hates more than being interrupted, I've yet to come across it,” Gemma laughed.

Narcissa smiled. “I think she would have pardoned you just to spite him at that point.”

“They've dropped all charges?” Severus asked.

“Yes,” said Narcissa. “Fudge wasn't happy about it – he wanted to organise for you to come in for weekly wand checks for the rest of the summer.”

“What?” Harry yelped. That sounded like hell.

“Don't worry, he changed his mind about that as well,” Narcissa said calmly.

Gemma laughed again. “I don't blame him.”

“What did you do?” Harry asked.

“She blackmailed him!” Gemma cackled.

“You blackmailed the Minister?” Harry asked incredulously.

“I did no such thing,” Narcissa said. “When he refused to believe that you had truly faced a pair of Dementors, I told him that if he refused to drop the charges, I would take the money that I would normally have donated to the Ministry, and use it to buy up every single advertisement in the _Daily Prophet_ for the foreseeable future. There is nothing illegal about any of that.”

“What were the ads going to say?” asked Harry.

“Oh, just reveal the details of a few business deals that Fudge had made with Lucius around the time that Lucius evaded Azkaban fourteen years ago,” Narcissa said smugly. “The _Prophet_ might be under pressure from the Ministry to drag your name through the mud, but they'd run the ads if I paid enough.”

“And she threatened to bribe the Wizengamot into holding an inquiry as to why the Dementors were away from Azkaban in the first place,” Gemma added. 

“Bribery is an accepted way to hasten Wizengamot business and always has been,” Narcissa said primly.

Gemma held up her hands. “Hey, you don't need to tell me that, I worked there for a year. I wasn't important enough to get bribed myself, but I saw it happen all the time.”

“I'm really cleared?” Harry asked, just to be sure.

Narcissa nodded. “Entirely. Fudge then suggested organising a personal tracing charm for your wand, but Bones hit the roof at that.”

Gemma cut in. “She said she wasn't having her employees used to further Fudge's vendetta against you, not to mention the waste of time and money.”

“I showed him the adoption forms – which I've since lodged with the Office of Births, Deaths and Marriages – and said you'd keep him under control, Severus,” Narcissa said, then drained her glass.

Severus smiled at her over his own glass. “I'm in your debt, Narcissa.”

“Yeah, thank you. Both of you,” Harry chimed in, looking between the two women. 

“You're welcome,” said Narcissa.

Gemma grinned at Harry. “Us half-blood Slytherins need to stick together.”

He smiled back. “So I've heard.”

“Speaking of which,” she said, leaning forward, “I can't believe you've been adopted by Professor Snape! That came out of nowhere!”

“Not really. It's been planned for a while,” Harry said, glancing at Severus.

He gave Harry a faint smile before looking at Gemma. “Not that I mind the opportunity to catch up with one of my most promising former students -” Gemma grinned at him “- but why exactly are you here? I was under the impression you had something important to tell us, but everything you've said so far could have been relayed by Narcissa.”

Gemma stopped smiling. “A couple of reasons, actually. First, I wanted to see if Harry was alright after – well, word is that You-Know-Who tortured you.”

“Yeah,” Harry mumbled at the table. He looked back up to see Gemma's stricken expression. “I'm fine though.”

“If you say so,” she said, clearly unconvinced. 

“Wait, you believe me about that?” Harry asked her.

Gemma nodded vigorously. “Of course I do. So does Terence, and my family. Which brings me to my next point. How'd you like a spy in the Ministry?”

Severus glared at Narcissa. “What exactly have you told her?”

“Oh, relax,” Narcissa said calmly.

“Sir, it doesn't take a genius to figure out that Harry's going to be involved in the fight against You-Know-Who. If not directly, then as a figurehead for the resistance,” Gemma said.

Severus shot a quick look at Harry before nodding slowly. “And?”

“I can help,” she said earnestly. “I'm the secretary for the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. I could try to convince her that You-Know-Who's back, for a start. She's already annoyed with Fudge, it's the perfect time to try to sway her.”

Severus considered her for a full minute. To her credit, Gemma met his gaze unflinchingly. Finally, he nodded. “I'll speak to our leader.”

“You mean Dumbledore,” she said.

He raised an eyebrow. “You're sharp as ever.”

“I pay attention to the important things,” Gemma said modestly.

“Indeed,” Severus said fondly, then stood up. “Harry, we should get home.”

Harry sculled the remainder of his Coke and got to his feet. “It was great seeing you again, Gemma.”

Gemma stood up and hugged him. “Hopefully I'll be seeing more of you.”

“I'll inform you of Dumbledore's decision,” Severus promised her. “Narcissa, thank you again for today.”

“You're welcome. Harry, let me know once you're settled in and you can come over and see Draco.”

“Sounds good,” Harry said. “Gemma, say hi to Terence for me.”

“Sure thing.”

Harry followed Severus out of the pub and into the empty town square. They ducked into a shop doorway and Severus Disapparated them. 

“Do you think Dumbledore will let Gemma join the Order?” Harry asked as they walked up to the house.

“Possibly,” Severus said, unlocking the door. “There haven't been many Slytherins in the Order – I was the only one last time, and Narcissa is now the second – but you and Draco will necessarily become aware of some of what we're doing, and it's likely Theodore will, too. And Albus certainly thought highly enough of Gemma to make her Head Girl two years ago...”

“I think he'd be mad not to let her join,” Harry said.

Severus snorted. “Plenty of people already say that about him.”

“True.”

“Now,” Severus turned serious again. “Bed. Have you been taking the Dreamless Sleep?”

Harry nodded. “Every night.”

“I want you to stop as of tonight. Write down any dreams you have, including every detail you remember, even if you think it unimportant.”

Harry bit his lip. “You think I'm going to have more visions about Voldemort?”

“Hopefully not. But if you do, I want to know as soon as possible,” Severus said. 

Harry nodded. “Okay. Goodnight, Dad.”

Severus smiled. “Goodnight.”

Harry went up to his room slowly. The events of the day were finally catching up to him. He brushed his teeth as quickly as he could before changing into his pyjamas and collapsing into bed. He stared up at the ceiling, tired but happy, and fell asleep trying to figure out what colour he should paint his new room.

********

  
Harry awoke to sunshine streaming in through his window, as if the very weather was celebrating his being rid of the Dursleys. He sat up slowly, grinning around the room, before a dampness in his pyjama pants wiped the smile from his face. He supposed it shouldn't be a surprise, considering he hadn't had a single dream in over a week. His body was clearly making up for lost time. He put his glasses on and reached for his wand and cast a Scouring Charm.

A sudden thought stopped him. Severus had told him to write down everything he dreamed about, and Harry done so, dutifully writing down all the nightmares that had woken him up during the night. But surely Severus didn't mean this, right? Because there was no way that Harry was going to tell him about _these_ dreams. He had vague memories of dreaming of himself and Draco, snogging in the Quidditch changing rooms... And in Draco's bedroom... And the dorm... Only they hadn't stopped at snogging... He let out a shaky breath as he had a vivid flash of his dream self getting down on his knees in the showers and reaching for Draco...

“Fuck writing this down,” Harry muttered. He reached into his pants then paused. He thought he'd heard something out in the hallway, and he was struck by doubt that he should be doing this at all. Although Severus had been adamant yesterday that this was Harry's house now... And right now, Harry really wanted a wank.

Ten minutes later Harry was singing happily in the shower. The setting only served to further remind him of his dream, and he jerked off again under the hot water. He was still humming when he eventually made his way downstairs for breakfast.

He found Severus frying up some bacon and cutting up a mound of mushrooms.

“Morning,” Harry said cheerfully.

“Do you always sing in the shower?” Severus asked over his shoulder.

“Sometimes. You don't mind, do you?” Harry asked, suddenly unsure.

“No. Though you definitely didn't inherit Lily's voice,” Severus said with a chuckle.

Harry stuck his tongue out at him as he got some plates out.

“I saw that,” Severus said.

“No you didn't,” Harry said swiftly.

“Care for a wager?”

Harry narrowed his eyes at the back of Severus' head. “No...”

“Right answer,” Severus said, chuckling again.

Harry contented himself with putting the kettle on.

“So,” Severus said, once they were seated, “did you have any nightmares last night?”

“You really need to work on your small talk,” Harry said, buttering his toast very intently.

“Harry.”

“Sorry. Yeah, I did,” Harry said. He pulled out the scrap of parchment he'd scribbled on during the night. “Okay... First one was me getting eaten by Nagini in the graveyard again. She said I tasted like chicken. Draco's dad was there this time, along with Theo's and Greg's and Vince's. Er, next one was a bit hazier. I was duelling Voldemort again, but my wand wasn't working... I think it was just shooting out marshmallows at him... And one where Draco's dad tortured me.”

Severus hummed thoughtfully. “Anything else?”

Harry shrugged. “Flying around Hogwarts, chasing a giant Snitch. That's all.”

He looked up to see Severus frowning at him. “That's odd. I would have thought you would have experienced rather an onslaught of dreams after taking Dreamless Sleep for so long.”

Harry felt his cheeks heat and ducked his head. “And some dreams about Draco,” he mumbled.

“What happened in those?” Severus asked, spearing a mushroom with his fork.

“I'm not telling you that!” Harry cried, going even redder.

“Why – ah. I don't need to know about those,” Severus said quickly.

“Good,” Harry said fervently. 

Severus cleared his throat. “Yes, well, make sure you continue to keep note of your future dreams.”

Despite his own embarrassment, Harry had to stifle a smile at Severus' evident awkwardness. “Sure.”

“If you still wish to paint your room, I can Apparate us to Holyhead this morning,” Severus offered.

“Yeah, I've got a brilliant idea for my room,” Harry said, eagerly latching onto the change of topic.

Severus raised an eyebrow. “What is it?”

“You'll see,” was all Harry said.

As soon as breakfast was over Severus Apparated them into an alleyway in Holyhead. 

“How come we haven't just gone to Cerrigydrudion?” Harry asked curiously.

“It isn't large enough,” Severus said simply. “It's fine for purchasing groceries and basic supplies, but anything else usually requires that I travel further afield. I'll take you in one day; it's about a half hour's walk from home.” 

“Okay,” Harry agreed readily. “Hey, Holyhead has a Quidditch team, right? Is that the closest one to us?”

“I believe so.”

Harry grinned. “Looks like I've finally found my Quidditch team.”

“I'll buy you a scarf for Christmas,” Severus drawled.

“Cheers.”

When they got to the hardware store, Severus watched in bewilderment as Harry set about collecting a variety of different paint tins. “Just what exactly are you planning?” he asked eventually.

“You'll have to wait and see,” Harry said, hiding a grin. 

Severus looked at him suspiciously but said nothing further until Harry was finished. They were walking back to the alley to Disapparate, with Harry carrying two bags of rattling paint tins, a variety of brushes and a paint roller.

Severus slowed as they came up to an optometrist. “When did you last have you eyes checked?”

Harry frowned up at him. “What do you mean? When I got my glasses, of course.”

Severus stopped walking. “Which was when?”

“I dunno. Shortly after I started school. My teacher said I couldn't see the blackboard and made the Dursleys get me checked out,” Harry said with a shrug.

“You haven't had your eyes checked in nearly a decade?” Severus' eyebrows shot up before they drew down into a scowl. “I honestly don't know why I'm surprised by those people. Come on.”

Harry followed Severus into the optometrist. The man he spoke to at the counter didn't want to see them for a week until Severus said Harry hadn't had his eyes checked since receiving his glasses. Like Severus, he seemed to think this was a travesty which must be rectified at once.

“I'll squeeze you in now, come through!” he said, beckoning to Harry. “I'm Dr Hart, I'll be examining you today.”

Hart positioned Harry behind an instrument which he used to hold different lenses in front of Harry's eyes, asking which ones gave him clearer vision. It turned out to be fun in rather a bizarre way. It was certainly more enjoyable than the last time he'd had his eyes checked, when Aunt Petunia had spent the entire examination impatiently prodding Harry to make him hurry up.

“Well, it's not as bad as it could have been,” Hart announced at last. “Just a slight prescription change. I'll have them ready for you in two weeks. All you need to do now is choose which frames you want.”

Harry ended up choosing a pair of rectangular glasses with thin but sturdy frames – as different as possible from his old pair, which had been the cheapest Aunt Petunia could find. He leaned over curiously to watch Severus fill out the order form for him, then froze in shock when he saw what he'd written as their address. _Hogwarts School, Hogsmeade, Scotland_.

Hart scanned the completed form then frowned. “Hogwarts? Never heard of it.”

“It's a rather small, _highly,_ selective boarding school. I'm a teacher, and Harry's a student,” Severus said calmly.

“And you've come all this way to get your son's glasses?” Hart looked baffled.

“We're down visiting my sister for a few weeks,” Severus said.

“I see,” Hart said, nodding. “What's her phone number? So I can call you when your order comes in.”

“I'm afraid I don't know it off the top of my head,” said Severus.

Hart laughed. “I know what that's like. In that case, just pop in here again in two weeks. I'll make sure your glasses are ready on time.”

“Thanks,” Harry said. He waited until they were outside, then rounded on Severus. “You're a really good liar -”

“It's always easiest to lie if you incorporate the truth.”

“- but should you have told him about Hogwarts?”

“Why not? Technically I didn't lie about that part. Hogwarts is inaccessible to Muggles and Unplottable – can't be depicted on a map,” he explained at Harry's questioning look, “so even if he does attempt to ask around, he'll simply conclude that I was underestimating its exclusivity.”

“But what if he tries to send you some mail there?”

“The Muggle Liaison Office has employees working in the Muggle post service who intercept any such mail and send them on via owl. It necessarily delays the arrival of the post, but does get it all to where it needs to go.”

Harry thought this over. “So that's what you meant last night, when you told Aunt Petunia to contact me through Dumbledore if she needed?”

“Yes. She has experience with the method,” Severus chuckled.

Harry shook his head to dispel an image of Aunt Petunia writing to Dumbledore for a progress report on Harry's grades. “She does?”

“After Lily received her Hogwarts acceptance letter, Petunia wrote to the Headmaster asking if she could attend as well,” Severus smirked.

Harry gaped at him. “No way! She hates magic!”

“She does,” Severus agreed, “but she was also jealous of Lily's abilities. 

“No way,” Harry repeated. 

“It was rather funny.”

“Did he reply?”

“Yes. Far too kindly for such a ridiculous request in my opinion.”

“Huh,” was all Harry said. He still wasn't entirely convinced Severus wasn't joking.

“One last stop,” Severus said, walking into a pharmacy.

They emerged fifteen minutes later with a sheet of passport photos of Harry. 

“Why do I need passport photos?” he asked once Severus had Apparated them both home.

Severus looked at him like he was an idiot. “For your passport.”

“Okay. Why do I need a Muggle passport?” 

“As a precaution. Should something happen to me and you need to get out of the country, you can get out through Muggle means,” Severus said matter of factly.

“Right,” Harry said. He really hoped he never had a reason to use it.

They had a quick lunch of salad and leftover cold sausages. Harry ate as quickly as he could, as he was eager to begin painting his room. “Do you want me to do the dishes?” he asked as soon as he'd swallowed his last bite.

“Just go,” Severus said, his black eyes glinting in amusement.

Harry didn't stick around for him to change his mind. He grabbed his shopping bags and headed upstairs. After levitating all of his furniture out into the upstairs hallway, Harry began to paint. With the roller, it didn't take him long to get the base colours on the walls. He used Scouring Charms on the roller and brushes, and on a few drops on the floor, then returned to the kitchen for some water. Severus was still at the table, hunched over something.

Harry drained one glass of water and filled it again before he leaned against the bench. “Is there a spell I can use to dry to paint?”

“ _Assicco_ ,” Severus said without looking up. 

“Thanks. What are you doing?”

“Forging your passport,” Severus said.

Harry blinked, certain he'd misheard him.

When he didn't get a response, Severus finally looked up. “Do you have a problem with that?”

“Me? Nope. I think the government might, though.”

“So don't tell them.”

Harry snorted. “How come I can't just get a real one?”

“You'd have to supply your address when filling out the paperwork. I can't write down 'Hogwarts' on a government form because unlike a Welsh optometrist, the government has the capability of investigating a Scottish public school,” Severus explained. “It wasn't difficult to conjure a copy of my own passport and substitute your details in.”

He leaned back in his chair and held up the two passports for Harry to compare them. Harry wandered over curiously. They certainly looked the same, right down to the watermarks. He laughed when he saw Severus' photo. “You look like a vampire.”

“And you look like a drug addict. Nobody looks good in their passport photographs,” Severus replied.

“If you say so,” Harry grinned. “You did a good job. I can't tell the difference between these.”

“One of them is yours and one is mine,” Severus said slowly.

“Funny.”

Severus smirked. “How goes your painting?”

“Good. I've done the base colours, so now all I have to do is add in the details.”

Severus frowned at him. “Details? Just what are you painting?”

Harry grinned. “You'll have to wait.”

“So you keep saying,” Severus grumbled.

********

  
It was almost completely dark outside by the time Harry decided he was finished. He cast more Scouring Charms on his equipment, the floor and himself, and another Drying Charm on the walls. He levitated his furniture back into their proper positions, then left in search of Severus. He found him in the potions lab stirring chamomile roots in boiling water.

“I was beginning to think you'd passed out from the paint fumes,” he said when Harry walked in.

“Do you want to see it?” Harry asked.

“Certainly. This will be ready to simmer presently.”

“What are you making?” Harry asked, leaning closer.

Severus switched the direction of his stirring. “Veritaserum.”

“To help teach me Occlumency?” Harry guessed.

“Very good,” Severus said. “Veritaserum can only be fought by the most advanced Occlumency. I'll begin teaching you how to repel Legilimency. Only once you can do that will I dose you with Veritaserum. I trust you read _An Introduction to Mind Magic_?”

“Yep. Twice.”

“Very good,” Severus repeated. 

He withdrew his stirring rod and lowered the flames with his wand. He poured ten cloves onto a chopping board, crushed them swiftly and added them to the cauldron, lowering the flames further. Harry watched him silently. He liked watching Severus brew: his movements were always so neat and precise. He only wished he was half as good.

Severus washed his equipment and turned to face Harry. “Alright, show me this mysterious painting.”

“Okay, well, just keep in mind that I usually draw, not paint,” Harry said, suddenly nervous about showing him. “And I've never painted anything this big before.”

Severus turned off the lights and locked the door behind them. “I have faith in your painting abilities.”

Harry didn't reply, just chewed his lower lip as they walked into the house. He pushed open his bedroom door and watched anxiously as Severus walked in. He stopped in the centre of the room and looked around slowly, his expression inscrutable.

“Well?” Harry burst out.

“It's amazing, Harry,” Severus said.

Harry grinned. “You think so?”

“Oh yes.”

Harry walked into his room and gazed around happily. He'd painted four separate murals of different locations at Hogwarts. The castle itself was painted on the wall above his desk. The Forbidden Forest loomed above his bookshelf and wardrobe, with Hagrid's cabin nestled in the corner. The lake was painted above his chest of drawers, with the rock he usually sat at with Draco and Hermione in the foreground. Above his bed was the Quidditch pitch, the Slytherin stand behind it and a Snitch hovering in the air.

“Obviously nothing's where it should be, but I couldn't get the lake in properly if it was accurate,” Harry said somewhat defensively, “and I really wanted to include the rock where I have picnics with Draco and Hermione.”

“You do not need to defend yourself, Harry. This is truly remarkable,” Severus said softly.

Pride blossomed in Harry's chest. “Thank you. Do you know if there's a spell that can make the Snitch move?”

Severus nodded. “The Animation Charm. The incantation is _animare_ , and the wand movement is like so.” He demonstrated a circular wiggle with his own wand. “You can use it for three dimensional objects, though they are necessarily more difficult to charm.”

Harry pulled out his wand and aimed it at the Snitch, copying the movement Severus had made. “ _Animare_.”

To his delight, the Snitch immediately fluttered its wings, then began to dart all over the walls. 

Severus smiled at him. “It almost makes me regret having already organised your birthday present. Art supplies would perhaps have been wiser.”

“You got me a present?” Harry asked eagerly.

Severus' smile turned into a smirk. “You'll have to wait and see.”

“Hey, I only made you wait a couple of hours, not three weeks!”

“Eighteen days.”

“Whatever.”

********

  
After dinner Severus brewed a large pot of tea while Harry waited in the lounge room, trying not to feel nervous. Nothing he'd read about Occlumency made him think he was going to enjoy this, or be very good at it for that matter.

“Don't be so worried,” Severus called from the kitchen.

“But the book said it can hurt,” Harry called back, then screwed up his face. He sounded like a little kid.

“Having someone use Legilimency on you can cause headaches, but I won't be performing that for a while yet.”

“You're not?”

“Did I bring a Dementor to your first Patronus lesson?”

“Oh,” Harry said quietly, feeling cheered, if rather foolish.

“Occlumency will eventually allow you to fight off Legilimency through the construction of a mental barrier,” Severus said, his voice dropping as he walked into the lounge room with the tea, “but it's not a feat you'll be able to accomplish just yet. But a side effect of the training is that your brain will be more likely to defend itself against nightmares.”

“And visions.”

Severus sat down. “Have you had any more?”

“No, but that doesn't mean they won't come back,” Harry said, reaching forward to pick up his tea. “I mean, I had two before Voldemort was back. If I do have some connection with him, they're bound to get worse now, right?”

“It's likely,” Severus agreed. 

“What do you think it is? The connection, I mean.”

Severus shrugged helplessly. “I don't know. I've never heard about anything like this. The Dark Lord is a highly skilled Legilimens, but even so, to achieve something like this over long distance... It shouldn't be possible. They are not prophetic visions, so you cannot be a seer...”

“Maybe I'm going crazy,” Harry said quietly into his tea cup.

“You're not,” Severus said firmly. “Now, back to Occlumency. What I am about to teach you will not stop the nightmares entirely – it may even cause you to have more of them for a period – but they should be shorter and less intense than what you've had so far.”

“Then what's the point?” Harry asked petulantly. “Why can't I just block out all of my dreams?”

Severus pursed his lips. “The point is that you will suffer less when the nightmares do occur. Dreaming is a way for your subconscious mind to work through what has been occupying your conscious thoughts. At the moment, for you, that includes processing the traumatic events you went through in that graveyard. I could just give you an endless supply of Dreamless Sleep, but that would end up having a detrimental effect on your health, as it would slow down your recovery.”

“I'm fine,” Harry insisted.

“You were tortured and nearly killed less than a month ago,” Severus said softly. “You are not fine; your nightmares are evidence of that. But that's _normal_ , Harry. You'll get through this. It may take some time, but you will.”

“Okay,” Harry mumbled.

“You can always come to me to talk about anything that may be bothering you,” Severus added.

“I know,” Harry said.

Severus nodded. “Now, did you have any questions about anything you read?”

Harry brightened at the change of subject. “I found the description of Legilimency interesting. You know, in a very familiar way.”

“Did you,” Severus said warily.

“Yeah,” Harry said, arching a brow. “Do you and Dumbledore use it on all your students, or am I a special case?”

“Both, actually,” Severus smirked. When Harry simply raised his other eyebrow, he rolled his eyes. “I'm sorry for using Legilimency on you when I knew you were lying to me.”

Harry smiled. “Thank you. How would you like it if I used it on you if you were lying to me?”

Severus shrugged. “I've never lied to you.”

“Not the point.”

“I would be annoyed,” Severus admitted, “but you're not a teacher, Harry. Do you have any idea how many lies students tell me in a single day? Of course I don't use it on all of them. But sometimes, I have cause to fear for a student's welfare. I think using Legilimency in those circumstances is entirely justified.”

Harry twisted his mouth to the side, not quite convinced. “You think so?”

“Yes. For instance, one of the jobs I've been given by Dumbledore is to use it on the older students this year, to see who might be tempted to join the Dark Lord after graduating.”

“Oh.” Harry drank some more tea; he had to admit that was a pretty good reason.

Severus cleared his throat. “Did you have any other questions?”

“Er, yeah. I don't get how I'm supposed to clear my mind.”

“What do you mean?” Severus asked.

“I mean how am I supposed to do that?”

“You just... You just clear your mind,” Severus said uncomprehendingly. 

“That's not helpful,” said Harry.

Severus frowned at him in genuine confusion. “I didn't think you'd have trouble with this aspect.”

“The book didn't explain it very well. And neither are you, frankly,” Harry said.

“Drink your tea,” Severus eventually ordered.

“Sorry, Dad,” Harry tried.

Severus shook his head. “No, I mean drink it to help calm yourself. You need to have your emotions under control if you are to clear your mind.”

“Oh, right,” Harry said.

When he'd finished his cup, Severus took it off him. “Close your eyes and make sure you're seated comfortably.”

Harry rolled his shoulders and leaned his head against the back of the couch.

“Focus on your breathing,” Severus said quietly.

Harry couldn't help feeling a little stupid, sitting with his eyes shut as Severus watched him.

“Stop worrying,” Severus said, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Relax your shoulders and just breathe. Slower. That's it. Try not to think of anything. Just in and out. In and out.”

Severus got quieter and quieter until Harry couldn't hear him at all. The only thing he was aware of was his slow, steady breathing as his body sank into a deep lassitude. After a while he became aware of Severus calling his name.

Harry opened his eyes, blinking them a few times until the room came into focus. “Was that okay?”

“Quite a good effort for your first time,” Severus said. “You maintained the state for nearly fifteen minutes.”

Harry blinked again, this time in surprise. “Really?”

Severus' mouth curled in amusement. “Yes. Now, that is obviously an inconvenient method of Occlumency should you wish to keep out someone who is actively using Legilimency against you.”

Harry nodded. “I was completely out of it.”

“Precisely. This is merely the first step. As I said earlier, it should aid in lessening your nightmares. I want you to clear your mind like this before bed every night, and keep writing down any dreams you do have.”

Harry nodded again. “When will you teach me how to Occlude properly?”

“Once you've mastered this step to my satisfaction. The aim is for you to be able to clear your mind but still maintain awareness of your surroundings.”

Harry looked at him doubtfully. He didn't see how it would even be possible to do that.

“Don't look at me like that. You'll pick it up soon enough,” Severus assured him.


	3. In Which Harry Reunites With His Friends and Visits Cerrigydrudion

Harry was in the middle of unpacking the last of his clothes into his wardrobe, supervised by Hedwig's watchful gaze, when Thoth flew in the open window with a low hoot.

“I was wondering what took Draco so long,” Harry said to him.

He gave an owl treat to Thoth and pulled the letter off his leg. Thoth gulped down the food then flew up to sit on the top of the wardrobe next to Hedwig. She clicked her beak at him in greeting and shuffled over. Harry spared them half a glance before flopping onto his bed to read his letter. It was rather shorter than he'd been expecting.

_You were attacked by DEMENTORS?! Make Snape bring you over here as soon as you get this._

Harry jumped back off the bed, yelling “Sev – Dad!”

“What?” Severus' voice was rather closer than he'd been expecting. 

Harry walked out of his room and into Severus', looking around curiously. It had the same layout as his bedroom at Hogwarts, only this one was currently brightly lit by the morning sunshine, and had electric light fixtures instead of candles. The bedding was a dark green instead of black, but the bedside tables were piled high with books, just like at Hogwarts. Severus himself was kneeling on the floor surrounded by books and scrap pieces of parchment.

“What are you doing?” Harry asked him.

“I've misplaced the name of a colleague from a potioneers' society in New Zealand,” Severus muttered. 

“New Zealand?”

“Since the Ministry is officially denying the Dark Lord's return, I can't very well write to any British potioneers asking their opinions on what potion he may have used to resurrect himself,” Severus said grumpily. 

“You don't know?” asked Harry. 

“I don't know everything about every potion ever made.”

“Could've fooled me.”

Severus smirked up at him. “What did you want?”

“Oh, right,” Harry said. He waved the note still clutched in his hand. “Draco's heard about the Dementors and wants me to go over to the Manor today.”

Severus considered him for a second before nodding. “You can Floo over. I'll pick you up later today.”

“Thanks,” Harry said, mildly surprised it had been that easy.

“Ask Narcissa if she's had any luck finding those texts I asked for. I forgot to ask her the other day,” Severus said, resuming his search. 

“Sure.”

Harry hurried back to his own room. He picked up his wand and headed for the fireplace, calling out a farewell to Severus as he passed his room. He grabbed a handful of Floo powder from the bowl on the mantel and threw it into the fireplace. When it erupted in green flames he stepped in quickly. “Malfoy Manor!”

He made sure to keep his elbows tucked in close to his body as he spun past countless grates until he began to slow down. He stumbled as he came to a stop and was spat out, sprawling onto the white marble of the Malfoys' foyer.

“Stupid way to travel,” he muttered as he got to his feet and began to brush himself off.

“Hello sir!”

Harry looked down to see Tilly beaming up at him. “Hi Tilly. Where's Draco?”

“Master Draco is being in his bedroom with his guests, sir,” Tilly said. She clicked her fingers and suddenly Harry was soot-free. “Master Draco is wanting you to join them as soon as you is arriving.”

“Thanks. And Narcissa?”

“Begging your pardon, sir, but Mistress is not to be disturbed, sir!” Tilly said with a stern squeak.

“Okay,” Harry held up his hands in surrender. “I'll find her later.”

“Tilly will be telling you when Mistress can see you, sir,” Tilly said firmly.

“Got it,” Harry said, walking up the stairs to Draco's room and wondering idly what Narcissa was doing that had Tilly so adamant she wasn't to be disturbed.

Draco's door was wide open, letting the sounds of an argument float down the hallway to Harry's ears. He sped up when he heard Hermione's voice.

“You can't just go over there like that!” she cried.

“Why not?” Draco snapped.

“You know why,” she said wearily.

“Fuck the bloody charm!”

“I think you might find that a little difficult,” Harry joked as he walked into the room.

Draco's head snapped around and he abandoned the path he'd been tracing in order to fling himself into Harry's arms. Harry squeezed him back as he looked over his shoulder to see both Hermione and Theo watching them, before Draco pulled back, obscuring Harry's view. He pressed his hands to the sides of Harry's head and peered intently into his eyes then sighed in relief. “I was so worried. And then Mother said the Ministry was after you...”

Harry kissed him gently. “I've still got my soul. And your mum sorted out all the Ministry stuff.”

He disentangled himself to go greet the others, only to be smothered in Hermione's hug. “How do you manage to get attacked like that in broad daylight? And in a Muggle neighbourhood!”

“I didn't do it on purpose,” Harry said weakly. 

“These two seem to think you did,” Theo said. He grinned and shook Harry's hand. 

“You okay?” Harry asked him, trying to hide his alarm.

Theo had a large but mostly faded bruise on the right side of his face, stretching from his jaw up to his cheekbone. There was a faint sheen on it that Harry recognised as coming from applying bruise paste. It must have been one hell of a hit to still be that visible three days later, Harry thought with a wince.

Theo touched the bruise self-consciously. “I'll be fine. You?”

“Same.”

“What took you so long to get here?” Draco demanded.

“I came over as soon as I got your note!” Harry protested.

“Ignore him,” Hermione said, shooting a disapproving look at Draco. “He's angry about the Fidelius Charm, not you.”

“How hard is it for McGonagall to tell us where you live already?” Draco asked peevishly.

“She's probably busy with Order business,” Harry said. 

“Told you,” Hermione said smugly.

Harry sat down on the bed and looked over expectantly. “So what's going on? Sev – er, Dad's told me a bit, but we've had a lot of other stuff to do.”

Draco sat down next to him, leaving the foot of the bed for the other two. “We don't know much. Mother bribed and blackmailed Fudge to get you cleared, she told us that much.”

Harry smiled. “Yeah, she and Gemma were pretty pleased with themselves over that.”

Theo plopped down eagerly. “Gemma? As in Farley?”

Harry grinned and told them all about Gemma's offer to spy on the Ministry for the Order, and how Severus had agreed to speak to Dumbledore about it. Theo and Draco were very enthusiastic about her joining the Order. Like Harry, they both wanted to join, and were annoyed over being relegated to the sidelines by the adults. 

Hermione was more pragmatic about it all. “They're not going to let us in when we're all still underage and in school! Just be thankful they're telling us anything.”

“What else have they told you?” Harry wanted to know.

Draco shrugged. “Mother's in charge of trying to get Ministry officials to believe he's back. Sounds like she's succeeded with Gemma, and through her, has an in with Bones. The only problem is that she has to be delicate about it all, in order to not alienate potential allies. Arthur Weasley's doing the same job, but he hasn't anywhere near as much influence as Mother has.”

Hermione chimed in. “Tonks and Shacklebolt are also trying with the other Aurors, but like Mr Weasley, they need to go very carefully as they risk losing their jobs.”

Harry nodded. “What's Narcissa doing today? Dad asked me to get some books off her, but when I asked Tilly she told me she wasn't to be disturbed. She got quite strict, actually.”

Draco narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “She told me that she and Kingsley were trying to find something in the library. I bet they're not, though. I bet they've given up and are shagging instead.”

“What's with you and thinking everyone's getting horny in libraries?” Harry asked with a laugh. “First it was Hermione and Viktor... Do you have some fantasy I should know about?”

Draco turned bright pink, intriguing Harry. “I – er – I –”

“Why would they be having sex in the library when they have roughly ten empty bedrooms to choose from?” Hermione asked practically.

She missed the baleful look Harry gave her for interrupting whatever Draco had been about to say.

“Can we please stop talking about this? It's bad enough I have to share a dorm with these two, I don't want to hear about their fantasies too,” Theo moaned.

“What have we done in the dorm?” Harry asked indignantly.

Theo looked at him incredulously. “You guys sleep together all the time!”

“Yes, _sleep_ ,” Draco said, having recovered his voice. “And that's usually when one of us is upset over something.”

“Just, please, learn some privacy charms before we go back to Hogwarts,” Theo begged, then shook his head. “Anyway. Harry. Is Snape going to the meeting next week?”

“No idea, this is the first I've heard of it. Why?”

“I'm supposed to talk to him about my father. Tell him anything I know about what he might have been doing since the Dark Lord came back.”

“Mother's taking us all to headquarters for that meeting,” Draco added.

“Then I guess we'll be there too,” Harry said. “Wherever it is.”

“I am so sick of sodding Fidelius Charms!” Draco burst out. “They make everything entirely too complicated. And this one makes my head hurt.”

“What? Why?” Harry asked in concern.

“Because I've been there. Before the charm was put in place,” Draco explained. “Didn't you have the same thing when you went to Snape's house?”

Harry thought back. “When we got there – before McGonagall told me where our house was – I... I knew where we were, but didn't. Somehow. Or... I knew where we were, and was expecting to see a house, but couldn't remember what it looked like. My head didn't hurt, though.”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “That would be because unlike Draco, you haven't spent hours trying to figure out where it is.”

“It's infuriating,” Draco complained. “I _know_ I've been there – Mother could tell me that much – but whenever I try to remember it's like someone performed a Memory Charm on me. There's just a blank part of my brain.”

“You'll find out next week,” Harry said consolingly.

“Easy for you to say,” Draco muttered.

“Yeah? Last night Dad told me he's got me a birthday present and now I have to wait _three_ weeks to find out what it is,” Harry said.

Hermione smiled. “Apart from that, is everything going well with him?”

“I can't believe you didn't tell anyone about that,” Theo grumbled good-naturedly. “Pansy's going to have a cow when she finds out.”

Harry grinned as he began telling them about the last few days. He'd just gotten up to his Occlumency lessons when Tilly popped into the room to announce that lunch was served.

When they walked out onto the balcony they found Narcissa and Shacklebolt seated at the table waiting for them. Narcissa smiled at Harry as they all sat down. 

“You've had no further problems with the Ministry, I hope?”

“No, you did too good a job,” Harry said gratefully.

“She certainly did,” Shacklebolt said with a low laugh. “Tonks is furious that she can't tell anyone at work about it. She does a very good impression of Narcissa.”

Narcissa arched a brow. “I've seen her impression of me, and I've never been that clumsy in my life, thank you very much!”

“I thought she did a pretty good job,” Draco said with a sly grin at Shacklebolt. 

Narcissa stuck her nose in the air and ignored them both. “Harry, I have most of the books Severus asked for. Kingsley and I haven't been able to find the last two volumes in the library, but we'll search Lucius' study for them after lunch.”

“Is that what you were doing all morning?” Draco asked.

“Yes. I'm sorry about Tilly, Harry, but we couldn't risk any of you wandering in. Those books are not fit for young eyes.”

“They're not fit for older eyes, either,” Shacklebolt said with a grimace.

Narcissa laid her hand on his. “True. Harry, they're in a sealed package in the library, you can pick them up after lunch. Are you taking the Floo back home, or is Severus picking you up?”

“He's coming here. He didn't say when, though.”

“We'll do our best to find those books before he gets here,” Narcissa said.

“We can help,” Theo offered. Hermione nodded vigorously beside him.

“Not with this, you can't,” Narcissa said, looking between the pair of them.

Theo slumped down a bit, but Hermione nodded again, unsurprised.

Once lunch was over Narcissa and Shacklebolt disappeared into Lucius' study, leaving the kids to their own devices. They wandered back to Draco's room, where Hermione suggested they begin their holiday homework. Theo readily agreed.

“Now? We've only just gotten home from school!” Draco protested.

“So?” Theo asked.

“If they're not interested, we could start our Arithmancy essays,” Hermione offered.

“Sounds good,” Theo said.

“Let's go to your room, I haven't unpacked anything yet,” Hermione said.

Harry held his hand out to Draco. “Come help me fetch those books.”

Draco gave him a disbelieving stare. “Those are my choices? Homework or fetching books? Why don't I show you what Mother got me for my birthday instead?”

“You can show me later,” Harry said impatiently.

He grabbed Draco's hand and pulled him down to the library. Once in there, Draco walked over to an end table which had a large, paper wrapped package on it. Harry hung back to shut the door. He sealed it with a Locking Charm for good measure.

“I don't know why you were so eager to fetch these,” Draco said, picking up the package and inspecting it. 

“I'm not,” Harry said quietly. 

“If Mother says they're sealed up, you're not going to be able to unseal it,” Draco continued, though he was now poking the package curiously with his wand.

“Probably not,” Harry agreed.

“Then why did you drag me in here?”

“Because,” Harry said, wrapping his arms around Draco's waist and pressing a kiss to his neck, “I'm very interested to learn more about your library fantasy.”

Draco leaned back against Harry. “I have no such thing.”

Harry sucked lightly. “No? Do you want me to stop then?”

“No!”

Harry chuckled and bit down on Draco's collarbone. “Then tell me about this fantasy.”

“I – oh – I don't have one,” Draco gasped.

“I think you're lying,” Harry whispered, lowering his hands slightly. 

Draco moaned. “Alright, I do. I don't know where it came from.”

Harry was back to kissing Draco's neck. “Is it because you get turned on by all these musty old books?”

Draco laughed breathlessly as Harry gestured blindly around them. “You're making me sound like – oh – Hermione!”

“Hey!” Harry bit down again. “Don't cry out Hermione's name, you git!”

“Stop talking then, you prat.”

Harry grinned into Draco's neck. “I think I'd rather make _you_ stop talking.”

“I'd like to see you try,” Draco breathed.

“Yeah?” Harry spun Draco around and pushed him over to a sofa. “That can be arranged,” he declared, following Draco and straddling him, “very easily.”

Draco ran his hands up Harry's thighs. “What if someone comes in?”

“I put a Locking Charm on the door,” Harry said, bending down to kiss the other side of Draco's neck.

“They can be unlocked,” Draco said, before he got a handful of Harry's hair and used it to pull him up for a kiss. 

He kissed Harry hard, biting his lower lip until Harry opened his mouth. When Draco's tongue met his own, Harry raised his hands, resting one along the back of Draco's neck, the other threading into his soft hair.

Harry pulled away after a minute. “We'll have to be quick then. And quiet.”

Draco inhaled sharply. “Quick doing what, exactly?”

“I'm not sure,” Harry said. He wriggled experimentally against Draco, drawing another moan. “That's not being quiet.”

“You're making it a little hard,” Draco groaned. 

Harry rubbed himself up and down Draco's body. “I am, aren't I?”

“Oh, fuck.”

“Shh.”

Draco put his hands on Harry's butt and pulled him in closer. It was Harry's turn to moan. 

“Now who's too loud?” Draco asked smugly.

They both moaned when Harry sped up his rutting. “Still you.”

Draco pulled Harry in to kiss him again as Harry struggled to keep his rhythm. He was close, so close... Just a few more seconds of this and... Harry bit down on Draco's bottom lip when he came. He stopped moving and lay there panting for a few seconds before he realised that Draco was squirming desperately beneath him. 

“Sorry,” he muttered, reaching his hand between them.

A few firm rubs and Draco came too, with a gasping sort of moan. Harry pulled his hand out and collapsed on top of him. “Wow,” he managed eventually.

“Mmm hmm,” Draco replied. 

Harry lay there for a while, boneless and panting slightly, before he spoke again. “And I thought wanking was good.”

Draco laughed weakly. “Not that I'm complaining – because I'm really, _really_ not – but what brought all this on? I mean, usually you pull away well before we get to this stage.”

“I'm not sure,” Harry mumbled.

Draco was silent for a long moment. “I have a theory,” he said at last.

“Yeah?”

“Yes,” Draco said. He raised Harry's head to look him in the eye. “I think it's some sort of survival thing.”

Harry frowned at him. “What do you mean?”

Draco cupped Harry's face with one hand. “I mean, you went through hell a couple of weeks ago, and this is your way of, I don't know, celebrating that you survived or something.”

Harry averted his eyes. “You think so?”

“It's a theory.”

“Huh,” Harry said, and lay his head back down on Draco's shoulder. “It could just be because of the dreams.”

“You molested me because of some dreams?”

Harry snorted. “Ever since I stopped taking Dreamless Sleep I've, er, I've had heaps of, you know, sex dreams. And they've mostly been about you, so...”

“Mostly?” Draco asked sharply.

“Some were about Muggle celebrities.” Harry didn't think there was any reason to tell Draco about the dreams he'd had about Blaise and Bastien. That wouldn't end well.

“I see.”

“You don't mind, do you?”

“Mind?” Draco laughed. “Dream about all the Muggle celebrities you want if this is the result!”

“Cheers.”

Draco pulled him up again and gave him a long, slow kiss. “Whatever the reason, I like it. A lot.”

Harry felt his cheeks heat. “Me too.”

********

  
The books that Severus had asked for turned out to be about necromancy, and like Narcissa, he refused to let Harry see them. Once home, he'd ensconced himself in the cramped library for the night, leaving Harry to fend for himself. He made a token effort at beginning his holiday homework, but that led to thoughts of Hermione suggesting it earlier that day, and then to the memory of what he and Draco had elected to do instead. He gave up completely after that and chose to have a wank instead.

As he cast a Scouring Charm, he couldn't help wondering if Draco was right about the cause of his new-found libido. He hoped not; he didn't want anything he did with Draco (or his own right hand, for that matter) to be marred by Voldemort. He lay in bed worrying about it until he remembered he was supposed to be clearing his mind. It took longer than the night before to do so. Whether that was because he didn't have Severus' quiet voice encouraging him, or just because he was a little disturbed by Draco's theory, he wasn't sure. 

The next morning Severus announced that they were going to walk into Cerrigydrudion to do the groceries. 

“The most inconvenient part of the Fidelius Charm is that it has also removed all trace of me from Jasper's memory,” Severus grumbled as they set off across the fields. 

“I'm sorry. Do you miss him?” Harry asked miserably.

“Stop apologising, Harry, I've told you I knew the consequences of adopting you,” Severus said firmly, “and no, I don't miss him. We weren't friends, just acquaintances.”

Harry frowned away at the horizon, unconvinced. “What did you need those books for?”

“I'm trying to figure out which potion the Dark Lord used, in the hopes that we may be able to discover a weakness of some sort.”

“Any luck so far?” Harry asked as they climbed over a low stone fence.

“Not apart from learning how to preserve Inferi for the longest time possible,” Severus said.

Harry screwed his face up. “That's sick. How can you stand to read that stuff? Even Kingsley sounded grossed out yesterday, and he's an Auror!”

“It's necessary, and who better than the ex-Death Eater to do it?” Severus asked. 

Harry frowned as they reached a dirt lane. “What do you mean by that?”

“I've seen more than my share of death and bloodshed. Reading about raising the dead is nothing to seeing the Dark Lord create Inferi.”

“You saw him do that?” 

“On a few occasions.”

Harry was silent for a long time. “Last year, Tracey told me that Voldemort turned her uncle into an Inferius and sent him to kill her parents.”

“He did.”

“Were – were you there?” Harry held his breath.

“Not for the attack, no,” Severus said, and Harry breathed out in relief, “but I was around for the celebrations afterwards.”

Harry stumbled slightly. “You _celebrated_ that?”

“I pretended to, yes. I was already a spy by that point. Luckily for me, I am an extremely accomplished Occlumens – or, as you put it, really good at lying.”

“Right,” Harry said, still feeling faintly ill. 

“Harry, if you do not want to hear about my past activities, don't ask. I'm not going to sugar coat them for you,” Severus said quietly.

“No, it's not that. I mean, I know being a Death Eater... You would have seen and done a lot of messed up things. It's just a bit of a shock to hear you talking about them, sometimes,” Harry said. “It's hard to imagine you doing that sort of thing.”

“It's hard to remember doing some of them,” Severus admitted.

There was an uncomfortable pause after that. Harry took in their surroundings. The empty fen that Fen House was situated in wasn't all that large. It was surrounded by farms whose fields were mostly filled with sheep, though there was one in the distance that looked like it held cows or horses. Harry had never been out in the country like this. The closest would probably have been the walk from Hogwarts to Hogsmeade, but even then, the path was usually filled with scores of other students. Here, Harry and Severus were the only people in sight.

As they reached the side of a paved road, Severus' voice cut into his musings. “Did you have any dreams last night?”

“Yeah. Er...” Harry took a second to think. “A few about the graveyard this time. Voldemort tortured me in one of them – no, two of them. They were both a lot shorter than usual though, and I woke up pretty much as soon as he used the curse on me... Nagini called Mum a Mudblood in one of the others, before I got put into the cauldron. I fell to the bottom where it was all oily and black, but I woke up before I could drown.”

“Anything else?”

“I did have one other weird dream. I was in this long corridor. It was so dark I couldn't see anything properly, but I knew there was a door at the end I needed to get through. I don't know why. When I got there it was locked. Apart from that, I had another dream that I was flying around Hogwarts with Hedwig. Oh, and one where Sirius was trying to teach me to become an Animagus. He wanted me to be a dog like him, but all I could manage was turning into a deer.”

Severus nodded. “The fact that your nightmares are getting shorter is encouraging. Waking before you suffer too much in them is a sign that you are successfully beginning to employ basic Occlumency techniques. Continue to empty your mind before sleep for the next few days, and then I'll attempt to teach you how to do so without losing awareness of your surroundings.”

“What about the others? The door dream was especially vivid.”

“I would assume that the imagery of a long corridor with a single, locked exit is a sign that you are feeling trapped or stifled in some way. Perhaps it is your mind's way of rebelling against your attempts to exert some control over your dreams,” Severus mused. “Unless you want to leave our house more often?”

Keeping his eyes on the village that had just become visible after a bend in the road, Harry shook his head quickly. “Seriously? I've been here less than a week and this is the third – no, fourth – time I've gone out. It's definitely not that.”

Severus gave him the ghost of a smile. “Very well. I wouldn't worry about flying dreams as they are evidently quite frequent for you. And the one with Black seems fairly straight forward as well.”

“You're really good at all this dream stuff. You sound like Trelawney.”

“Did I once predict your death?” Severus snapped, then narrowed his eyes when he saw Harry laughing. “Brat.”

“You should ditch teaching Potions and take over Divination,” Harry went on. He looked away to the approaching village.

“As I didn't even take the subject as a student, I hardly think I am in any position to teach it,” Severus said archly, though his eyes were now glinting in amusement.

“What did you take?” Harry asked, turning serious.

“I took my NEWTs in Potions, Defence Against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration, Charms, Herbology, Arithmancy, Ancient Runes, and Astronomy,” Severus said, ticking them off on his fingers. “The only subject I dropped after OWLs was History of Magic.”

“Wow, you were a swot,” Harry said.

“I was a diligent student,” Severus corrected. “Have you any idea of which classes you will be continuing with next year?”

“Potions and Defence, obviously,” Harry said, earning a smile. “Er, Transfiguration, Charms and Herbology. Maybe Care of Magical Creatures? It's a pretty easy class – at least, when the creatures aren't trying to kill us – and if we ever study any sort of snake I'll have a massive advantage.”

“Might I suggest that, if you do want to take a sixth subject, you take Astronomy instead of Care of Magical Creatures? There are a plethora of potions ingredients whose properties fluctuate with the movement of the moon and some of the planets.”

Harry shrugged. “My boyfriend and godfather's family are all obsessed with stars, pretty sure I can just ask one of them if I need to.”

Severus rolled his eyes. “Having a tendency to name one's children after celestial bodies does not necessarily mean one has any special knowledge in the subject. Similarly, your family have all produced some form of deer Patronuses, and yet you do not claim to be an expert in the field.”

“Did you know that there are currently six species of wild deer in Britain, but only two, red deer and roe deer, are actually native?” Harry asked as they came to the outskirts of Cerrigydrudion. When Severus merely blinked at him, he laughed. “Draco gave me a book on deer last year as a joke, because he says _my_ family is obsessed with deer, but it was actually kinda interesting.”

“I see,” Severus said, his lips twitching. “Well, in that case, you shall have no trouble telling me how one would differentiate...”

Harry didn't catch the rest of Severus' sentence. They'd just reached a small church, and Harry was standing stock still, staring at the ancient graveyard. He could feel his heart pounding, and he struggled to draw a proper breath.

Harry tried to turn away from the graveyard, but he found it difficult to even move. All he could do was stand frozen, gazing numbly at the graveyard. As he stared at it, the sky seemed to darken and hooded figures surrounded him. He could hear cold, high-pitched laughter echoing through the air and knew what was coming next. He flinched as something encircled his wrists.

“Harry. Harry!”

Harry blinked as Severus moved in front of him, blocking the graveyard from his view. He looked down to see Severus' warm hands on his wrists, not scratchy rope. He opened his mouth and let out an indistinct croak. He cleared his throat, trying to dislodge the lump in it. “What just happened?” he managed to ask.

Severus was wearing a very worried expression. “It was the graveyard, wasn't it. It made you remember... I should have expected this and not taken you past the church. Can you walk home, or do you want me to Apparate?”

“What? No, we need to do the shopping,” Harry protested weakly.

“I can come back later,” Severus said dismissively.

“No, it's fine,” Harry insisted, pulling his hands free. “Really. I can't spend my life falling apart whenever I see a tombstone, can I?”

Severus pressed his lips together. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“Very well then,” Severus said grudgingly. 

He moved next to Harry, allowing him to see the churchyard again, but put his hand on Harry's shoulder. Harry took a few deep breaths as he gazed across the street, letting the warmth of Severus' hand centre him to his surroundings. Now that he was looking at it properly, he saw that this graveyard didn't have much in common with the other one. This one was far older and had simple gravestones, most of which were crumbling with age. He couldn't help thinking that anyone tied to one of these would have no trouble breaking free. Beyond the graves was a little parish church.

“St Mary Magdalen. It's over a thousand years old,” Severus said, guiding Harry into town with a gentle pressure on his shoulder.

Severus kept up a running commentary of Cerrigydrudion in order to distract Harry as they walked past the graveyard. Harry listened intently and felt his heart rate gradually slow down to normal. Before he knew it they were entering a butcher's shop. Harry watched, still a bit shaken, as Severus placed his order with a butcher. The butcher had the strongest Welsh accent Harry had ever heard, and he had to concentrate to understand him.

It was the same in the bakery and the grocery store. Harry couldn't help noticing that though everyone was friendly towards Severus and himself, no one seemed to want Severus to linger for a gossip, like so many other shoppers seemed to be doing. He felt a fresh pang of guilt over being the cause of Jasper forgetting about Severus' existence.

When it came time to return home, Severus suggested they take a different route out of town. Harry refused point blank. 

“I need to deal with this, or it'll get worse. Right?”

Severus pursed his lips and nodded unhappily. “Very well.”

He glanced around them and discreetly cast a Featherlight Charm on their shopping bags. When they got to the road that ran past St Mary Magdalen, Severus struck up a conversation about the properties of Veritaserum. With his mind thus occupied, Harry was able to get past the graveyard calmly enough, though his heart did start racing for ten minutes. 

When they got home they found an unfamiliar owl waiting for them on the guttering. It followed them into the house, landing on the back of the couch and hooting pointedly at Harry. He dumped his shopping bags on the kitchen table and retrieved half a cold sausage from the fridge. He fed it to the owl after pulling its letter off its leg.

_Dear Harry,_  
 _Hope you're well, and that Snape's treating you right. Feel like coming over for a visit? We're busy at the moment, but Remus and I can pick you up next Wednesday, and Snape can get you the next day._   
_Let me know either way._  
 _Sirius_

Harry looked up to where Severus was putting away the groceries. “Er, Sirius wants me to spend the night at his place.”

“Of course he does,” Severus said sourly. “When?”

“Next Wednesday. He says he and Remus can pick me up and you can get me the next day,” Harry said nervously.

“That's acceptable,” Severus said. “I was going to take you to headquarters for the meeting anyway. Tell him they may pick you up at ten o'clock. And to be on time.”

Harry scribbled out a quick response on some parchment he found on the coffee table and gave it to the owl, who took off through the still open door. Harry wandered over to shut it then went into the kitchen to help with the rest of the groceries.

“Draco said that Narcissa's taking him and Hermione and Theo to this meeting,” he said.

“I would imagine so. I intend to question Theodore about his father, and I don't imagine that Narcissa would want to leave Draco or Hermione alone at the Manor, even with the house-elves in attendance. The Weasley children will likely all be there as well,” Severus said.

“It's a big meeting, then?”

“It will be the first to have all the current Order members in attendance,” Severus said carefully.

“Are you going to tell me what's going on?” Harry asked casually, turning away to put the milk in the fridge.

“Possibly, depending on what is discussed.”

Harry nodded, not expecting Severus to promise anything more, but he crossed his fingers in the hidden confines of the fridge door.


	4. In Which Harry Visits Order Headquarters and Remus Lets the Wolf out of the Bag

Harry spent the next week settling into his new house. He finally had all his things unpacked, and was very proud of his room. He'd stuck his new Pearl Jam poster on the back of his bedroom door, and his wardrobe door held his three favourite photos: himself with Draco and Hermione, decked out in their house colours for the Quidditch final in third year; the one Severus had given him, of Severus with a face-painted Lily; and one that he'd gently prised out of his photo album, of Lily and James dancing amongst autumn leaves. 

His only knickknacks, if you could call them that, were his chess pieces on his desk corner, and the model Horntail from the Triwizard Tournament. He'd made a little nest out of a pair of Uncle Vernon's old socks for it on top of his chest of drawers. It seemed quite happy up there, keeping watch over his bedroom and occasionally breathing out a little jet of flame or flying laps around the ceiling. 

He didn't yet have enough books to completely fill his bookcase, so had devoted one shelf to his smaller potions equipment. His cauldron was in his school trunk – which was now otherwise empty for the first time since he'd bought it. It'd been odd, fully unpacking his trunk. At the Dursleys', he'd always kept most of his school things in there, careful to keep it locked, and at Hogwarts there simply wasn't enough room in the dorm for anyone to get all their things out. For the very first time, he had a room that was all his, every last thing in it, and a parent who respected his privacy enough to knock if he had the door shut.

This particular point was greatly appreciated, as Harry's libido was still raging on. He was choosing to believe in his own theory for that, as he really didn't like Draco's theory, and there was no way he was asking Severus or Hermione about the topic. Then again, it could just be a normal teenage hormones – he vaguely remembered Pomfrey talking about those in sex ed, but had been too busy giggling to cover his embarrassment along with the rest of the class to pay attention.

On Wednesday morning Harry packed a change of clothes, his Walkman and some drawing supplies in his backpack and lugged it downstairs after breakfast. He went to join Severus in the lounge room for their usual scrutiny of Harry's dreams. He smiled when he recognised the Ramones playing from the record player.

“Only one nightmare last night,” he reported as he dropped onto the couch. “Crucio in the graveyard, but it was Nagini holding the wand this time.

Severus was reading an article in _The Practical Potioneer_ and scribbling all over it with red ink, though he stopped at Harry's words. “How did she hold it?” he asked curiously.

“Tail. Like a monkey,” Harry said. His foot started tapping in time to the music.

“Ah.”

“Yeah.”

“And the door?”

Harry sighed. He'd been dreaming every night of the dark corridor that ended in a locked door, and he was thoroughly sick of it. “Yeah. I think the dream was a little less vivid than usual, but I still can't get through the damn door.”

“And you're certain you've never been there before?” Severus asked – for what seemed like the millionth time.

“Not that I can remember. Maybe it was something I saw as a baby?” Harry suggested.

“Hmm.”

“I looked up locked doors in my Divination textbook, and being locked outside of one means I'm anti-social,” Harry said.

Severus snorted. “If you're anti-social then I should be dreaming of being locked out of doors constantly. Divination's a pile of rubbish.”

“You're the one who said the door might mean I'm feeling trapped,” Harry pointed out.

“Harry, there is a difference between interpreting the symbolism of a dream like a normal person, and the way that you are taught to in Divination. Dreaming of Nagini holding a wand to torture you is your subconscious mind's way of dealing with your fear of what you've been through. It is not the universe trying to tell you that you are destined to – I don't know – become a pastry chef.”

Harry laughed at the idea. “So you still think I'm feeling trapped?”

“I'm not sure,” Severus admitted. “The only other dream you have with any sort of frequency is that of flying, which is entirely straight forward. Something about this dream isn't right.”

“Well, maybe I _should_ ask Trelawney about it,” Harry said, making a face.

“Don't. Not unless you wish to have your death predicted yet again.”

“Not really. Why do you hate her so much, anyway? It's not your death she keeps predicting.”

“No, merely that of my son,” Severus snapped.

Harry narrowed his eyes. “You told me not to take Divination. When I was buying the textbook, before I'd even met her.”

Severus frowned at being caught out and lowered his Potions journal to his lap. “The prophecy about you and the Dark Lord was made by Sybil Trelawney to Albus Dumbledore.”

Harry's mouth dropped open. “And you're only telling me this now?”

“I didn't tell you when I originally told you about the prophecy because I didn't want you to put any faith in her predictions of your death,” Severus said. 

“Oh,” Harry said. It was a pretty good point; knowing that Trelawney was actually capable of making a real prophecy would probably have made him more inclined to believe her constant premonitions of his demise. Still – “And you're sure that none of the other students she had said would die -”

“All still living, as far as I'm aware,” Severus said firmly. “Thank you for proving my point.”

“Doesn't hurt to check,” Harry muttered.

“Tomorrow night we'll begin working on clearing your mind without losing touch with reality.”

Harry nodded. “Sounds good. Do you mind if I turn the music up?”

Severus waved his hand and returned to his journal. Harry caught sight of the page as he walked over to the record player; it was covered in red ink and Severus showed no sign of stopping. Harry shuddered slightly at the thought of ever getting an essay returned in that condition, turned the volume up on the record player and then wandered over to the bookcases to choose a book to take with him.

“Is _The Lord of the Rings_ any good?” he asked over his shoulder.

“Read _The Hobbit_ first,” Severus replied. “If you can't stomach the ludicrous magic in that, you won't make it through _The Lord of the Rings_.”

“Guess fantasy's out when you know about real magic, huh. Is it that bad?”

“The elves resemble tall, attractive humans and are immortal.”

Harry laughed and spun around. “No!”

“If you don't believe me you're welcome to read it yourself,” Severus said.

Harry looked down at the book and shook his head. “I couldn't take that seriously.”

“Try _Lord of the Flies_ ,” Severus suggested.

“Does that have ridiculous elves in it, too?” Harry asked suspiciously. 

“It's about the evils of humanity. Specifically teenage boys.”

“Hey! _I'm_ a teenage boy!”

“My point,” said Severus; Harry didn't have to turn around to know that he was smirking. “William Golding. Should be somewhere near your right shoulder.”

Harry scanned the shelf and pulled out a thin book with a yellow cover. He turned it over to read the blurb as he returned to the couch. He'd just decided to give it a go and had turned to the front page when there was a knock at the door.

“I'll get it,” he said hastily, jumping up. He yanked the door open and was immediately pulled into a tight hug by Sirius. Harry smiled at Remus over Sirius' shoulder before freeing himself. “Hi! Come in, I'll just get my things.”

They stepped inside, Sirius warily, Remus more at ease. “Hello, Severus.”

“Lupin,” he said, getting up. “Black.”

“Snape.”

Harry stuffed his book into his backpack. “I think that's everything...”

“Nice music, Harry,” Sirius said with a grin. “Saw them when they came to London when I was sixteen. It was a great summer, actually. I ran away from home a couple days later.”

“Er, it's Dad's record, actually,” Harry said.

Sirius' nostalgic grin fell from his face as he and Severus looked at each other, both disconcerted. Harry looked between them, smothering a grin, and saw Remus doing the same.

“All set?” he asked, failing to completely hide the laughter in his voice.

“Yeah, I think so. Dad?” Harry hefted his backpack onto one shoulder and looked at Severus expectantly.

He shrugged. “If you've forgotten anything you only have yourself to blame.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Yes, Dad.”

“Don't forget to clear your mind before sleep.”

“Yep.”

“Do you have your wand?”

“Yes, Dad.”

“If they give you conflicting orders,” Severus jerked his head at Sirius and Remus, “do whatever Lupin tells you to do.”

Sirius opened his mouth angrily at that, but snapped it shut again when Remus put his hand on his shoulder.

“Okay. I'll see you at the meeting,” Harry said.

Severus nodded. “Off you go then.”

Harry walked out into a warm summer's day with Sirius and Remus, who traversed the considerably overgrown garden path much slower than Harry was used to doing.

“It's a lovely spot,” Remus commented. “Not at all what I'd imagined.”

“That's what I thought the first time I came here,” Harry said.

“Not a coffin in sight,” Sirius agreed.

“Sirius...” Remus said warningly.

“Sorry, Harry,” Sirius muttered.

“It's okay,” Harry said, stifling the urge to tell both Sirius and Severus to grow the hell up. “Are we Apparating to your place?”

“Yeah – oh, nearly forgot!” Sirius reached into a pocked and handed Harry a piece of parchment.

Harry read the note, written in an unfamiliar hand.

 _The Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix may be found at Number 12, Grimmauld Place_.

“Memorised that?” asked Remus.

“Yeah.”

“Good,” Remus said. He took the parchment back and set it on fire with his wand.

“And I thought Dad was paranoid,” Harry said.

“Not paranoid. Cautious,” Remus corrected him.

“And for good reason,” Sirius added.

“True,” Harry conceded. “Wait, why are we going to the Order's headquarters?”

Sirius shot him a confused look. “We live there.”

“Oh. So that's why Dad's on your Fidelius Charm list. That makes sense.”

“Yep,” said Sirius. 

Once they'd walked through the gate Sirius held his arm out to Harry. “You've been Apparated before, I take it?”

“Yeah.”

Harry glanced back at the house and saw Severus watching from the doorway. Harry waved over his shoulder before taking hold of Sirius' arm. There came the familiar but still horrible, claustrophobic sensation of Apparition before they reappeared in a grimy alley. Remus Apparated in next to them a second later.

“Come on,” Remus said.

He led the way out of the alley and into a small square. He crossed a small patch of dying grass and walked up to a dilapidated townhouse. Harry followed slowly, looking around in surprise. Having known that Sirius had inherited his parents' townhouse, he'd been expecting somewhere far nicer than this. The houses on either side of Number 12 had bags of rubbish sitting in their tiny front yards, stinking in the summer sun. Many houses had broken fence railings or boarded up windows, and the entire square had the air of a formerly well to do area gone to ruin.

Number 12 had no number on its front door, instead boasting a silver, serpent-shaped door knocker. The knocker was gleaming brightly, looking out of place on the door's faded and peeling black paint. 

“You live here?” Harry asked Sirius.

Sirius grimaced. “Yeah. It didn't look this bad back in the day, but it was still hell.”

He rapped his wand against the door. There was a multitude of clicking and grinding sounds from within the door as it unlocked itself, then swung open with an ominous creak to reveal an unlit corridor.

“Quickly, now,” Remus said to Harry in a hushed voice. “Don't go far and don't touch anything.”

Nervous now, Harry gripped the strap of his backpack and stepped over the threshold. His eyes were just adjusting to the gloom when there was a whooshing sound and the hallway was lit up by rows of old-fashioned gas lamps running down either wall. There were unmoving portraits lining the walls, most of which were in desperate need of restoration, with tarnished frames and water damaged canvas. Cobwebs stretched across the hallway so thick that they didn't look real. A chandelier hung from the ceiling, its black metal frame almost completely obscured by old, melted wax and yet more cobwebs. 

The floor was carpeted, but Harry was unable to make out the pattern or even be sure of the colours, it was so faded and scuffed. Apart from a thin track worn down the centre, obviously from Sirius and Remus, it was covered in at least an inch of dust.

Harry spun around when he heard the door shut quietly. His dismay must have been evident on his face.

“It doesn't get much better,” Sirius said in a brusque but quiet voice.

“We're cleaning it up, but it's slow going,” Remus explained.

“Can't you just, you know, use a bunch of cleaning charms?” Harry asked.

“We're not actually here that often. Order business,” Remus said. “We only moved in at the start of the month.”

“And the house fights back,” Sirius grumbled. 

“Fights back?” Harry looked around, half expecting for the cobwebbed chandelier to fall on him.

“Let's talk in the kitchen,” Sirius said. “Wouldn't want to wake up my lovely mother.”

He pointed irritably at a pair of long, mouldy looking curtains. Harry stared at them in bewilderment as he walked past. He'd assumed Sirius' mother was dead, given that Sirius had inherited her house. 

They squeezed past an umbrella stand that looked like it was made from a stuffed troll's leg. Good riddance, Harry thought, his leg twinging where it had been broken by a troll a few weeks ago. He hesitated momentarily when he saw a row of house-elf heads, mounted on plaques above the staircase. Judging from their features, they looked to be related to one another. 

Sirius pushed open a door at the end of the hall and headed down a narrow, crumbling stone staircase. Harry followed, keeping one hand on the wall for balance, and found himself in a large stone kitchen, only marginally less gloomy than the hallway above, though mostly clean. 

“No wonder you ran away,” Harry said.

Sirius let out a bark of laughter. “It was cleaner when I was kid. Course, my crazy parents were still around then, so I guess it evens out.”

“What did you mean about waking up your mum?” Harry asked.

“Her portrait. It's very true to life, which unfortunately means it's prone to screaming insults at anyone not deemed pure-blooded enough,” Sirius said. He slumped down at the kitchen table, joined by Harry and Remus. “I'll admit it's probably too soon to invite you over, but I reckon Remus and I'll be busier than ever after tomorrow's meeting.”

Harry shrugged. “It's okay. Bit of a shock, but I'll deal. Plus having me out of the house means that Dad doesn't have to worry about me catching sight of any of those necromancy books Narcissa gave him.”

“How's his research going?” Remus asked quickly, after seeing Sirius frown.

“Not great,” Harry confessed, “but he won't tell me the specifics. I guess you'll both get to hear more than me in the meeting.”

“What d'you want to know?” Sirius asked eagerly.

Remus shot him a quelling look. “I'm sure Severus has a good reason for not telling Harry everything.”

Harry nodded unwillingly. “It's not just Dad. Narcissa wouldn't even let Hermione or Theo help her find the books.”

“Well, what do you want to know?” Sirius asked.

“Sirius, if Snape hasn't told him...”

“He never said I couldn't ask questions,” Harry said quickly. “He just refused to answer some of them. Mostly about what he was doing.”

“Happy?” Sirius asked Remus, then grinned at Harry. “So?”

Harry thought about it. “What's everyone been up to? I know a bit – what Dad's doing, obviously, and that Narcissa and some others are trying to get support in the Ministry.”

Remus nodded. “Yes, but they're not having much luck so far. Apart from Narcissa, they all have their jobs to worry about.”

“Well, Narcissa ran into Gemma who wants to join, and she thinks she can convince her boss as well,” Harry pointed out.

“Who's Gemma?” Sirius asked, his brow crinkling.

“A friend of mine,” Harry said. “She was Head Girl two years ago and she kept an eye out for me when we all thought you were trying to kill me.”

Remus chuckled. “She's quite a talented young woman, Padfoot.”

Harry nodded. “And her boss is the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.”

Sirius raised his eyebrows. “That _would_ be handy...”

“Yeah, it would,” Harry said, impatient to get back to his question. “So?”

“Right,” Sirius shook his head. “I'm trying to find out where Voldemort's headquarters are.”

“Wouldn't he be somewhere near that graveyard?” Harry asked.

Sirius nodded. “That's what Dumbledore thought, too, but I haven't been able to find any trace of him in Little Hangleton. Course, they could be using Fidelius too, so I've been hanging around.”

“What if they see you?”

“I've been using my Animagus form. Sure, Wormtail will have told them about that, but unless they start killing every dog they come across, I'll be fine. I'm very good at acting like a normal dog.”

Harry snorted, remembering Sirius playing fetch with Scarlett. “Well, I hope you're a bit stealthier than you were after you broke out of Azkaban.”

“Hey,” Sirius held up his hands, “that wasn't as easy as you make it sound, I'll have you know. I'm still the only person to ever break out on their own.”

“Okay, sure. Doesn't change the fact that I saw you loads that year.”

“To be fair, he _had_ spent twelve years with the blind Dementors,” Remus pointed out. 

“True,” Harry said with a shudder. Sirius' face darkened, so Harry quickly added, “Er, what about you, Remus?”

“I'm trying to win allies amongst the other werewolves.”

“Any luck?”

“I... It's complicated,” Remus said. “We're not exactly a cohesive community – or at least, the people I'm trying to talk to aren't.”

“Okay,” Harry said slowly. “So why aren't you going after the ones who are?”

Remus' mouth turned down. “Because they're less likely to side with us.”

“Werewolf separatists,” Sirius elaborated.

“What -”

“Exactly what it sounds like,” Remus said sharply. “Werewolves who shun other humans – except for during the full moon.”

“During – oh. Oh, god...” Harry stared at him, feeling sick. 

Sirius glanced at Remus cautiously. “They're led by Fenrir Greyback, who likes to target young children. Bite them young and turn them against other humans. A werewolf army.”

Harry's eyes flicked between the two men as that piece of information sank in. No wonder there was so much hatred towards werewolves, if there was a group that purposefully aimed to eat other humans.

“Enough,” Remus said abruptly. He stood up, pushing his chair back with a loud scrape. “Let's show you to your room.”

He stomped out of the room without waiting to see if Harry or Sirius were following him. Harry walked after him warily, though he sped up when Sirius passed him with a resigned grimace.

“Don't worry, that's all my fault. I shouldn't have mentioned Greyback – that's the werewolf who bit Remus,” Sirius confided in a whisper.

“Right,” Harry said. 

They followed Remus up the stairs, all the way to the top floor. Harry stared around, wide-eyed, at the continued damage and decay, though thankfully there were no more decapitated house-elves. At the top landing there were two closed doors, one with a silver nameplate with _Sirius_ inscribed on it. The other door was bare, but they both had the same faded, dark paint.

“This is Regulus' old room. Thought you might like the décor,” Sirius said, pushing open the door.

Harry stepped inside and burst out laughing. “Are you kidding? This is more Slytherin than my dorm!”

It was true: the entire room was done up in green and silver, from the silvery wallpaper to the dark green bedclothes and curtains. There were even serpents twining themselves around the poles of the four-poster bed. Some old-fashioned Slytherin banners were stuck to one wall, a little faded but whole. There was a large discoloured area on the wall behind the bed; something had evidently been stuck there that prevented it from fading like the rest of the wall.

Sirius caught Harry studying the wall. “We took down the newspaper clippings about Voldemort that he'd stuck up there. No one wants to see those. But the rest is mostly the way he left it.”

Harry nodded. “I like it. He went a little overboard, maybe, but I like it.”

“Told you,” Sirius said to Remus. 

Remus merely smiled faintly at him, then turned to Harry. “That's your bathroom through there.”

Harry twisted around to look at the corner Remus was pointing to. There was a door there, hardly discernible from the rest of the wall, as it was covered in the same wallpaper.

“Well, I think that's everything,” Sirius said brightly. “Want to have a ride on my bike?”

“Sure!” Harry said eagerly. Sirius' motorbike was second only to flying a broomstick as his favourite mode of transportation.

“Sirius -” Remus began.

Sirius acknowledged him with a lazy wave of his hand. “I know, Moony. I can't take you up on it today, I'm afraid,” he said to Harry apologetically. “The invisibility function's a bit faulty and I can't get it to stick properly. But we can go for a ride around London, if you like.”

Harry shrugged. “Still cool with me.”

“Do you have a leather jacket by any chance?” Remus asked him as they began walking out of the room.

“No, why?”

“You can borrow one of mine then,” Sirius offered. “Muggles have all these weird safety concerns. We also need to wear these ridiculous helmets...”

********

  
It was just as enjoyable to ride the motorbike around the streets of Muggle London as it was to fly it above Hogsmeade. Harry was fairly certain Sirius broke most road rules – he definitely had a problem with speeding, and stopping for red lights – but when he asked him, Sirius cheerfully replied that the bike's magic would protect them.

“Got a light Muggle repelling charm on it, so the police don't bother me. Made sure of that after they nearly caught your dad and me one night,” Sirius said after they'd hopped off in the middle of Grimmauld Place. “Downside was that it always made it harder to pick up. Women can't be attracted to something they're repelled from, can they?”

Harry pulled off his helmet. “Women? But – I thought – you and Remus... Aren't you?”

“We're together, if that's what you're trying to ask,” Sirius said, laughing. “But that didn't happen until we were around nineteen. We've both been with women.”

“Oh,” said Harry, feeling stupid.

Sirius glanced down at him and ruffled his hair. “Hey, you never know unless you ask, right?”

“I guess,” Harry said.

Sirius unlocked the front door and manoeuvred the bike in with practised ease. He left it in a small room off the hallway as Harry shut the door quietly. He followed Sirius down the stairs to the kitchen.

“Have you ever liked a girl?” Sirius asked conversationally as they sat down. He Summoned a couple of bottles of Butterbeer, popped the tops off and slid one across the table to Harry.

He caught it before it could slide off the edge and took a swig. “Just Draco.”

“Really?” Sirius' eyebrows shot up. “You _are_ more like your mum than your dad.”

“Yeah?”

Sirius laughed and leaned back in his chair. “Oh yeah. James was always chasing one girl or another, until in fifth year he decided he only wanted Lily.”

Harry smiled. “Remus said she made him wait a while.”

“That's an understatement. She wasn't interested in him for a long time – not until seventh year. Used to drive him crazy.”

“She held out for two years?” Harry asked, impressed with his mum's stubbornness.

“Yeah. He tried everything he could think of – showing off on his broom, giving her lilies -”

“Well that'd never work, she hated them,” Harry interrupted.

Sirius frowned. “She did?”

“Yeah, Dad told me,” Harry said.

Sirius downed the remainder of his drink and got to his feet. “I'm going to find Remus, he was thinking of getting started on the library. Want to come?”

Something about his tone wasn't welcoming. “Er, I think I'll have a shower before lunch,” Harry said.

Sirius nodded and left the room without another word, leaving Harry frowning after him. He tried to figure out what he might have said to annoy Sirius, sipping the rest of his Butterbeer moodily. Maybe he shouldn't bring up James around Sirius – it was understandably a painful subject, after all – but no, Sirius was the one who mentioned him first. Harry puzzled it over for a few more minutes before giving up with a sigh and heading upstairs.

********

  
After his shower, Harry made his way downstairs slowly, unable to keep from gawking around himself. Sirius really hadn't been exaggerating the unpleasantness of his family. There weren't any more house-elf heads up here, thankfully, but one of the landings held a glass cabinet full of tiny, deformed skeletons that Harry hurried past. He was down to the first floor when he literally ran into a house-elf.

“Sorry, I didn't see you there,” Harry said truthfully.

He felt even worse when he saw how old the elf was. It was hunchbacked, making it appear even smaller than elves usually were, and its skin hung down in loose, wrinkly folds. Its bat-like ears had a large quantity of bushy white hair, but apart from that it was bald like most elves. It was wearing a grimy rag like a loincloth.

The elf glared up at Harry through its watery grey eyes. “Kreacher did not see young master,” he croaked in a low, hoarse voice, giving a deep bow.

“That's okay,” Harry said. “I'm Harry.”

The elf ignored his words entirely. Instead, Kreacher straightened up to his normal hunched position and began shuffling down the stairs, leaving Harry in the awkward position of having to either follow just as glacially, or push around him. Not being in a rush to get anywhere, Harry chose the former option, much to Kreacher's displeasure.

“Harry Potter is following Kreacher. Oh, my poor mistress, having the boy who stopped the Dark Lord fouling her hallways -”

“Excuse me?” Harry exclaimed.

“- and Master has the nerve to put him in Master Regulus' room, oh, my poor mistress would weep to see -”

“Sirius put me in there because he thought I'd like the decorations. I'm a Slytherin like Regulus was,” Harry said, confused. 

“- the Potter boy is comparing himself to Master Regulus now. He is not fit to – but then Master has brought a disgusting creature into his room, if my poor mistress knew her house was being defiled by filth such as that, oh, it would break her heart. My poor mistress, she would make it into a throw rug for the drawing room and wipe her feet on it -”

“You better not be talking about Remus!” Harry said, getting angry now.

“He talks about the werewolf like it's human, but my poor mistress knew better, oh yes, she would have -”

Harry had finally had enough. “He _is_ human!”

For a second, he thought his words had echoed down the stairs to the lower floor. Then he realised it wasn't his voice at all. What sounded like a dozen people were shouting at the top of their voices, though they were all drowned out by one woman's screams of rage. Harry drew his wand, squeezed around Kreacher and raced down the remaining stairs.

He got to the ground floor hallway to find it completely deserted of human life. Instead, the shouts were coming from the portraits on the walls. They were no longer still, but moving, every single one of them shouting in anger, though they were all over-shadowed by the old woman near the front door. 

The moth-eaten curtains that had formerly been kept closed had flung open to reveal a deranged old woman. Dressed in an old-fashioned (even by wizarding standards) dress and a black cap, she was screaming with near incoherent rage. Her eyes rolled dangerously and drool was running freely from her mouth.

“ _Filthy half-bloods and blood traitors! Mudbloods! Spawn of Muggle scum! The shades of my house have never been so polluted!_ ”

Harry stared in shock. He felt something brush his leg, and looked down to see Kreacher prostrate himself before the portrait, sobbing and muttering, though Harry couldn't hear him over the yelling of the portraits. Thundering footsteps came from upstairs and he jumped out of the way as Sirius and Remus came racing past him.

“Stun the other portraits!” Remus yelled at him, before lunging forward to help Sirius pull the curtains closed. 

Harry did as he was told, quickly working his way along the hallway. He'd done one side and was making his way back by the time the curtains were closed and the others were able to help Stun the remaining portraits. 

Finally, quiet returned to the house, broken only by Kreacher's continued sobbing. Harry stood there expectantly. 

“That'd be my mother,” Sirius said, jerking his thumb at the covered portrait, “and this is Kreacher, who for some reason is still creepily attached to her.”

“My poor mistress should have drowned the Master at birth,” Kreacher muttered.

“So I've heard. Go clean the bathrooms,” Sirius said irritably.

“As Master wishes,” Kreacher said, getting up and shuffling upstairs. 

“Come on, let's start lunch,” Remus said wearily.

They trooped down into the kitchen where Remus bustled around pulling out things for sandwiches. Sirius slumped down at the table, where Harry joined him. 

“I take it that the portraits are why we have to whisper in the hallway?”

Sirius nodded. “All it takes is for my mum to wake up and start screaming, and it sets the whole bloody lot of them off. Unfortunately, we can't get rid of it. She must've used a Permanent Sticking Charm on it. Bloody Tonks manages to set her off every time she comes over.”

“And Kreacher?” Harry asked.

“He's nearly as hateful as she was,” Sirius said. “He's been stuck here alone with just my mum's portrait for a decade, doing whatever it told him to. Not cleaning, obviously.”

“Why don't you just free him, then?” asked Harry.

“Can't. He knows too much about the Order,” Sirius sighed. “And he hates me, he'd find a way to get to Voldemort, mark my words.”

“You should have seen him the first time Narcissa came here,” Remus chuckled, bringing the food over to the table.

Sirius laughed. “He thought she was still a good little pure-blood, faithful to the family – and her husband. Then he found out she's part of the Order and dating Kingsley – but even that was nothing to him finding out that she's freed Dobby. I could've sworn he was going to have a stroke. He didn't, unfortunately.”

********

  
After lunch Sirius decided they should tackle the front hallway. This turned out to be beneficial to Harry, as Remus taught him the Vanishing Charm in order to get rid of the cobwebs. The charm would be coming up on his OWLs that year, and Harry didn't mind the early practise.

By the time they'd finished the hallway, no one could be bothered cooking anything for dinner, so Remus suggested they walk down to the local Indian restaurant for take away. It was only a few blocks away and a very pleasant walk in the balmy summer evening. 

“Sorry again about the chandelier,” Harry said once they'd ordered.

Sirius just shrugged. “I'd get rid of it entirely if Narcissa hadn't forbidden me from throwing anything out.”

“Why'd she do that?”

“In case something has hidden value or powers, or is just an old family heirloom” Sirius said, his tone making it clear what he thought about that. “I tried to argue but then she got Andromeda to back her up and neither of them would listen to reason.”

“What he means is that he gave up the second Narcissa _mentioned_ asking Andromeda's opinion,” Remus said.

“That's one interpretation,” Sirius said over Harry's laughter. “Anyway, she can't get mad at me if you accidentally Vanish part of it.”

They shut up when the waiter handed them their bags of take away.

“Look, Moony, you could get a job here,” Sirius said, pointing at a sign in the window when they walked past it. “' _No experience required_ '.”

“I'm a little busy with Order business at the moment. Though maybe if they gave me a discount. This smells delicious,” Remus said.

Sirius laughed with him, but Harry frowned. “You still can't get a job?”

“Well, like I said, I _am_ busy working for the Order, and Sirius has enough money for the both of us,” Remus said. “But no, there are still laws in place that make it extremely difficult for someone with my condition to find a job.”

“Why don't you just get a Muggle job?”

“It's a bit hard if you've no record of graduating from school,” Remus pointed out. “Most people can just have everything sorted out for them through the Muggle Liaison Office if they need to work with Muggles, but that's not an option for me. As far as the Muggle government is concerned, my education ended when I was ten and I've been unemployed my entire life. Rather limits my choices.”

Harry thought about this while they stopped at a set of lights with a couple of other pedestrians, who walked ahead of them for the next block. When they finally took the turn into Grimmauld Place, Harry could ask, “Then why don't you just forge them?”

“Forge them?” Remus repeated, sharing a look and a laugh with Sirius over Harry's head.

“Yeah. That's what Dad did with my passport,” Harry said. “We got some photos of me and then Dad stuck them into a passport he copied from his own.”

“I'm not sure -”

“Would you just _stop that!_ ” Sirius burst out.

“Stop what?” Harry asked warily.

“Calling Snape 'Dad'. He's not your dad. Your dad was James. He's the only person you should be calling 'Dad',” Sirius said fiercely.

Harry glowered up at him. “I call them both that.”

A muscle ticked in Sirius' jaw. “Moony, back me up here.”

Remus glanced at Harry before facing Sirius. “I think you're over-reacting.”

“Traitor,” Sirius growled.

He transformed into his Animagus form, gave a proper growl, then raced off. Remus' hand plunged into his pocket and he scanned the area – presumably checking that Sirius' transformation hadn't been witnessed by any Muggles who needed to be Obliviated – before he relaxed minutely. “Come on,” he said heavily, “he'll come home when he's calmed down.”

Harry ran his hand through his hair but followed Remus back to Number 12 and down into the kitchen. They dished out some food and ate in tense silence. After a few minutes, Harry took one last bite of his naan, unable to eat anymore due to the twisting of his stomach, and carefully regarded Remus over the table.

Remus met his gaze calmly. “What is it?”

Harry swallowed, but Remus didn't sound angry. “Are you okay with things?”

Remus nodded slowly. “I won't deny that it was a bit jarring to hear you call Snape 'Dad' at first, but I should have realised you'd be doing that. I just didn't think about it, to be honest – I was more surprised than displeased.”

Harry sagged in relief. “And the adoption in general?”

“Is the best thing for you,” Remus said, startling Harry with his conviction. “I know Sirius offered to take you in, but... This is in your best interest. And I think Sirius knows that, deep down. He's just... He's spent his life hating Snape. He's not going to change his behaviour overnight.”

Harry nodded. “Why do they hate each other so much? I mean, you've told me why, er, my dads hated each other...”

Remus didn't reply for a long time. “I think you should ask them directly.”

“Please, you think either one of them would give me an unbiased answer?” Harry scoffed. “And I know that you're Sirius' best friend so you're obviously on his side, but you're the closest I'll ever get to an unbiased source and you know it. Who else could I ask?”

“Do they give free lessons in manipulation in the Slytherin common room?” Remus asked, though he was smiling faintly. “Alright. I don't quite know what started it – Lily once told me that all three of them – Sirius, James and Severus – took an instant disliking on the Hogwarts Express before first year even began. That dislike was cemented when Severus was sorted into Slytherin and the rest of us went into Gryffindor.”

“What about you?” Harry asked.

“I never hated Severus like Sirius or James,” Remus said slowly, “though I wouldn't say I _liked_ him. But I was able to speak to him civilly. On the other hand – and I do regret this, Harry – I never made a proper effort to stop Sirius and James from picking on him, and of course Wormtail just followed their lead.”

“They picked on him?” Harry asked. He'd suspected it from his conversations with Ollie, but never had it confirmed before tonight.

Remus grimaced. “Yes, though he was perfectly capable of fighting back.”

“Three against one?” Harry asked, nettled. 

“If he was prepared, he was more than a match – but I agree, it was unfair,” Remus admitted, holding his hands up at Harry's glower. “And then, of course... Well... I nearly killed him in the Shrieking Shack because of Sirius...”

“Yeah, but you nearly killed all of us if you see it like that,” Harry objected, “and I don't have a problem with you. Neither do Draco or Hermione.”

Remus shook his head. “I wasn't talking about that instance.”

“Then what are you talking about?” Harry asked in confusion.

“You don't know?” Remus asked.

“Know what?”

“Snape didn't tell you? Really?” Remus pressed.

“Tell me _what?_ ” Harry demanded.

“I just assumed he would have told you,” Remus muttered, more to himself than to Harry. He ran a a hand over his jaw and frowned. 

“Remus?” Harry prompted.

Remus shut his eyes and sighed. Harry waited impatiently for him to open his eyes again. When he did, Remus didn't meet his gaze. “In our fifth year – maybe earlier, I'm not sure – Severus became interested in where I disappeared to around the full moon. It was somewhat of an obsession of his, according to Lily.”

“He worked it out?” Harry asked.

“Not... Not entirely on his own,” Remus said, speaking slower now. “One month, Sirius went to him and said if he wanted to know the truth, all he had to do was get past the Whomping Willow, and he'd find the answer at the end of the tunnel.”

Harry stared at him for a long moment before he managed to find his voice. “He tried to _kill him?_ ”

“He – well -”

“That'd be a yes, then,” Harry said furiously. “What happened?”

“Your dad – James – came and pulled Severus away as soon as Sirius told him what he'd done. He saw me, but they got out of there before I could go after them. I was horrified when they told me the next morning what had happened.”

Harry realised he was breathing harshly in anger and made an effort to calm himself. “So Sirius betrayed your secret to someone who hated you all _and_ nearly killed Dad – _both_ of my dads. What happened to him?”

Remus mumbled something at the table.

“What?”

Remus finally met Harry's gaze unhappily. “He got a month's worth of detention and had to apologise to Severus. Dumbledore told both him and Severus they weren't to tell anyone about it.”

Harry shot to his feet so quickly his chair toppled to the floor. “Sirius nearly killed another student and only got a month of detention? What the actual fuck? Scarlett got a week last year for jumping on stage at the Yule Ball, and that's no where near as bad!”

Remus had winced at his outburst. “I know it was unfair -”

“Too right that's unfair!”

“- but I'm sure that Dumbledore had his reasons,” Remus finished. When Harry merely glared at him, he sighed. “I'll make us some tea.”

“Tea! Sirius tried to kill my dad and you think _tea_ will make it okay?”

Remus calmly waved his wand at the kettle, which began to boil. “Of course not. It was a stupid thing to do. But when you're sixteen -”

“I'm _fourteen_ and perfectly capable of realising I shouldn't try to kill people!” Harry snapped.

Remus sighed. “You're right. I agree with you... He regrets it, you know. And not just because it meant Severus learned what I am.”

Harry glared at him some more before a little voice in his head – the one that sounded like Hermione – told him it wasn't Remus' fault. He ran his hand through his hair then bent to pick his chair up. He sat down and scuffed his foot on the stone floor. “I'm sorry, I'm not angry with you.”

“I know,” Remus said, “but thank you for apologising.”

Harry nodded, still seething at Sirius.

“And Severus never said anything about this?” Remus asked.

“No,” Harry said shortly. 

“Huh. I just assumed...”

“Why would he?” asked Harry. 

“Well,” Remus shifted uncomfortably, “I imagine he would have wanted to, ah, turn you against us, to secure your loyalty to himself over us. While I was teaching at Hogwarts, it was plain to see that you had a closer than usual relationship with him, and I can't imagine he would have relished the thought of you becoming friendly with either of us. He may have felt threatened, for lack of a better word.”

Harry considered this. “Well, it can't be much fun for him to talk about, can it? And besides, in third year, we all thought Sirius was a murderer and he wasn't allowed to tell any students about you being a werewolf – and I'd never heard of either of you before that... And no offence, but he's the first adult I've ever trusted – and he knew that, I think – so why would he be threatened by either of you, even after everything got sorted at the end of the year?”

Remus was prevented from answering by the kettle beginning to whistle. He hurried over to pour the tea, returning to the table with two steaming cups. Harry took his and stared into it.

“Harry, I'm sure he'll be back soon. You can talk about it all then,” Remus said softly. 

“Not sure I want to tonight,” Harry muttered.

“Entirely understandable,” Remus agreed. After a pause he asked Harry about his summer so far.

Harry was in the middle of telling Remus about how his Occlumency lessons were progressing when the door creaked open and Sirius sidled in. Harry immediately stood up. “Goodnight, Remus. Thanks for the tea.”

He walked past Sirius without looking at him. Just before the door swung shut he heard Remus tiredly telling Sirius to sit down. Harry glanced at his watch as he trudged upstairs and saw it had only just passed ten o'clock. A bit too early for bed, but he had a feeling it would take him far longer than usual to clear his mind before sleep.


	5. In Which the Gryffindors Spy on an Order Meeting Whilst the Slytherins Behave Themselves

Harry woke far earlier than usual the next morning. He lay in bed for a while, staring up at the green bed canopy, which was embroidered with silver serpents. Despite the familiar colours of the room, he didn't feel comfortable, though he supposed that was due to the house as a whole. No wonder Sirius had run away from home at sixteen. 

Harry's lip curled when he remembered what else Sirius had done at that age, and he swung himself out of bed angrily, despite the early hour. With nothing better to do, he got dressed to go down for an early breakfast, pausing to swing his backpack over his shoulder on his way out of his room.

When he got to the kitchen he realised he wasn't hungry after all, so contented himself with making a pot of tea. He sat down at one corner of the kitchen table, listening to Pearl Jam and drawing aimlessly while he drank his tea. 

He raised his head when a shadow fell across his paper, and reluctantly took his headphones out when he saw Sirius sitting across the table from him. He set his jaw and stared stonily at Sirius.

“Remus tells me he told you about the Shrieking Shack last night,” Sirius ventured.

“Uh huh,” Harry said unhelpfully.

“Right,” Sirius said, before slumping down in his seat. “I never meant to kill him, you know,” he said quietly.

“Really. Because as far as I can see, you would've known how fast and vicious werewolves are from _running around with one every month_ , so you would've known exactly what you were getting him into!” Harry said angrily.

Sirius flinched. “Yeah, but... I thought... I don't know... I thought he'd run away once he caught sight of Moony. I didn't think he'd be in any real danger. I just wanted to scare him.”

“Well congratulations. Are you proud?” Harry snapped.

“Not about that, no,” Sirius said. 

He sounded honest enough, and Harry relented minutely. “So why'd you do it?”

Sirius shrugged unhappily. “I wanted to scare him. I didn't really think about it much more than that.”

“Didn't even think how Remus would feel about you exposing his secret to Dad?” Harry asked.

“No,” Sirius said sullenly. “Look, Harry, I said I'm not proud of it, okay? And yeah, in hindsight, my punishment wasn't the best – although, did Remus tell you he didn't talk to me for a month afterwards?”

“No. So?”

“Even James was stroppy with me,” added Sirius.

“Good.”

“Right -”

“And what the _hell_ were you talking about when I told you he was adopting me? About Dad being a mean bastard? Last I heard, he never tried to kill his bloody classmates!”

Sirius jerked upright at that. “Maybe not, but he _was_ a Death Eater.”

“Yeah, and he told me why he joined them. Obviously I don't agree with that, but that's not the issue here. Unless, of course, you're going to say you did it because you knew what he'd become,” Harry said sarcastically.

Sirius rested his elbows on the table and dropped his head into his hands. “I did it because I hated him,” he said in a muffled voice. “I hated him and thought it would be funny to scare him.”

Harry glared at the top of Sirius' head. For the first time, he could understand why Remus had been able to believe that Sirius had murdered Pettigrew and all those Muggles.

“I know I was an idiot,” Sirius said, raising his head out of his hands, “but can you ever forgive me?”

Harry stared at him for a long moment before nodding. “Eventually. Not today, but... Yeah. I will. I got over Dad being a Death Eater, so I can get over this.”

Sirius had brightened when Harry nodded. “Thank you.”

“It'd help if you stopped taking shots at him when I'm around,” Harry said pointedly.

“Like he doesn't do the same thing,” Sirius grumbled.

“He's not as bad as you are. And given what I learned last night, I'd say he has a pretty good reason to hate you,” Harry said bluntly.

Sirius gave him a disbelieving look but nodded. “Okay,” he said, then stood up. “You hungry?”

“I already ate,” Harry lied. “I think I'll go read in my room.”

Sirius looked disappointed but unsurprised. “I'll send up your friends when they arrive. Should be just over an hour.”

“Thanks,” Harry said.

He gathered his things and headed upstairs, where he lay down on his bed to read _Lord of the Flies_. He only managed to read a few chapters before he had to put the book down as it was hewing a little to close to what he'd learned last night. With nothing else to do, Harry went to sit outside his bedroom door, looking down the stairwell. If he leaned in just the right position, he could make out the front door without much chance of anyone seeing him. He idly Vanished the cobwebs around him as he waited for the members of the Order to begin arriving. 

To Harry's surprise, he recognised a lot of people. First to arrive were Dumbledore and Moody – Harry jerked back away from the bannisters before he remembered that the Moody who had tried to kill him had only been an imposter. Tonks (who now had bright pink hair) and Andromeda were next, along with a man who Harry assumed to be Tonks' father. He certainly seemed familiar with Tonks' clumsiness, as he smoothly caught her when she tripped and nearly fell on the umbrella stand. They all headed straight for the kitchen, clearly used to the house's gloomy disrepair.

There were a few groups of people Harry didn't recognise, then Bill and Fleur walked in, hand in hand. Harry was wondering how and when they'd gotten together, considering the Triwizard Tournament only finished a month ago, when he nearly fell down the stairs at the arrival of Mrs Figg. He hadn't seen her since before he'd gone to Hogwarts, due to Severus or the Malfoys usually picking him up so soon into the holidays, but he still had vivid memories of her babysitting him at her house on Wisteria Walk. How his nutty old neighbour was a member of the Order of the Phoenix, he had no idea. 

After a few more strangers walked in, Severus arrived with McGonagall. 

“Dad!” Harry inadvertently cried, then winced when he realised he'd just given away his position.

Severus and McGonagall both looked up. When he caught sight of Harry, Severus crooked his finger. Harry got to his feet reluctantly and quietly went down the stairs. 

“Having fun up there?” Severus asked, his lips twitching.

Harry shrugged. “I was curious. And then I saw Mrs Figg! What's she doing here? _How_ is she here?”

“I'll tell you later,” Severus said. 

“Okay,” Harry said, before turning to McGonagall. “Hello, Professor.”

“Mr Potter,” she replied, inclining her head. “We should get in, Severus.”

Severus nodded. “Stay out of trouble, Harry.”

“How long will it take?”

“I'm not sure. I trust you will find a way to occupy yourself,” Severus said. “ _Without_ spying on the meeting itself.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Harry said, turning to go back upstairs. 

He stopped when the front door opened again, and turned back to find Narcissa walking inside. Draco was right behind her – actually, he was sticking __close to her, Harry noticed – with Hermione, Theo, Kingsley and Gemma bringing up the rear.

“Oh, good, we're not late,” Narcissa said when she spotted Severus and McGonagall in the hallway. She whispered something to Draco and pulled away. “I see Sirius has exerted himself cleaning up in here.”

Harry grinned. “My room's done, we can just stay in there.”

Narcissa nodded, and the adults all headed for the kitchen. 

Hermione and Theo made for the stairs, but Draco hung back, looking around himself nervously. Harry walked down and took his hand. “You okay?”

Draco nodded jerkily. “Yes. It's just – I remember this place now. Mother brought me here a few times when I was little, to visit her aunt.”

“So?” Theo asked.

“So, she terrified me,” Draco said.

Harry squeezed his hand and pulled him upstairs. “How old were you?”

“Great Aunt Walburga died when I was around five, so I would've been quite young. She liked to pinch my cheeks with her horrible claw hands, and then she'd kiss me goodbye and her breath was horrible, like something rotting...” Draco shuddered. “And that was when she was in a good mood! If something set her off she'd start ranting at the top of her voice and drooling. But the worst was when, because I was little, she'd confuse me with a house-elf and yell orders at me.”

“Your mum didn't do anything about it?” Hermione asked. 

“She'd try to calm her down, but this was back when Mother was still playing the dutiful, obedient wife and daughter. She always made up for it by giving me extra dessert when we got home, though,” Draco said, smiling fondly. “It's a shame she's dead, really, nowadays Mother would jinx her in a heartbeat.”

“You better be extra careful about making too much noise in the hallway, then,” Harry warned him. “I've seen her portrait get set off and it isn't pretty.”

Draco nodded seriously. “How far up are we going, anyway?”

“Well, Sirius has put me in his brother's old room on the top floor. But if we sit on the landing up there, we can see everyone as they arrive for the meeting without getting caught,” Harry said.

“We won't get in trouble? I mean, it _is_ a secret order, we probably shouldn't be watching the members arrive,” Hermione said.

Harry shrugged. “Dad knew I was up there and all he said was that I couldn't spy on the actual meeting itself.”

“Good enough for me,” Theo said with a grin. 

They settled down on the landing Harry had been occupying and leaned against the bannisters. Harry told the others about the members he'd recognised while they waited for anymore to arrive. They'd just about given up when the door opened one more time to admit most of the Weasley family. Mrs Weasley was looking very stressed as she ushered her children into the house. She and her husband disappeared into the kitchen leaving Ginny, the twins and Ron alone in the hallway. 

Harry stood up. “They shouldn't have done that, this is the last house you'd want to leave the twins in unsupervised,” he said, then set off quietly down the stairs.

“What's the worst they could do?” Theo whispered after him.

Harry just kept going, but before he'd reached the next landing his ears were assaulted with the shouts of the various portraits, with Walburga's voice once again louder than any of the others. Harry charged down the stairs, eschewing stealth for speed as he raced to Stun the portraits back into silence. 

By the time he'd jumped down the last few stairs into the ground floor hallway, Sirius and Remus had both emerged from the kitchen with Mr Weasley behind them. They tussled with the curtains, then helped Harry Stun the other portraits. There was a brief moment of silence in the hallway, then Mr Weasley sighed heavily. 

“Your mother will deal with you when we get home,” he told the twins. 

They looked at each other nervously and nodded. Behind them, Ginny and Ron were watching the portraits warily. 

“Harry, do you mind taking everyone up to your room?” Remus asked.

Harry shook his head. “Come on.”

“Nice place,” Ginny whispered as they passed the mounted elf heads.

Harry snorted. “We haven't seen half of it. Most of the house is off limits, I think. Sirius and Remus have only really cleaned their room, my room and the kitchen so far.”

“Yeah, Mum's given us a very detailed lecture about not going in any of them,” one of the twins sighed.

“What are _those?_ ” Ginny interrupted, pointing at the cabinet of skeletons.

“No idea,” Harry said, as they all stopped to look. “Sirius said they weren't here the last time he was.”

“Interesting,” one of the twins said, peering closer.

“Mum's already going to tear you a new one when we get home, Fred,” Ginny warned him, heading for the next flight of stairs.

“Exactly. Might as well make it count,” Fred grinned.

“We need to talk to Harry first,” George prompted him.

“Oh, yeah...”

“What about?” Ron interrupted.

“Business,” Fred said.

“You're going to talk to Potter about the joke shop?” Ron asked enviously.

“He's our financial backer, so yeah,” George said. 

Ron scowled at Harry, but Ginny smiled at him and then held out her hand to Fred. “Ear, please.”

“What?” Harry watched in confusion as Fred reached into his pocket and pulled out a long, flesh-coloured rubbery string.

“Cheers,” Ginny said when he handed it to her. 

“What's that?” Harry asked.

“Ah, I'm glad you asked,” Fred said.

“Extendable Ears. One of our more useful products,” George said proudly. 

“Slip one into your own ear, and hear conversations you were never meant to!” Fred said.

“Ginny can show you,” George said.

Ginny nodded and jogged up the last few stairs to the top landing. “Hi!” she said brightly to Hermione, Draco and Theo, then fed the string over the balustrade. Everyone leaned over to watch her unspool it down to the door to the kitchen. She held the other end to her ear for a few seconds, nodded at the twins with a grin, then beckoned Hermione closer.

Fred held out another Extendable Ear to Harry, who shook his head. “I can't.”

The twin shared a dark look.

“Right,” said Fred, handing the Extendable Ear to Ron, who immediately began lowering it over the balustrade.

“Where can we talk?” George asked.

“In here,” Harry said, leading the way into his room.

Fred shut the door behind them and gave Harry a long, measured look.

“Am I in trouble?” he asked in confusion.

“Not exactly,” Fred said.

“We heard about the adoption and want to know what it means for our joke shop,” George said.

“Seeing you decline the opportunity to eavesdrop on the meeting isn't exactly encouraging,” added Fred.

“Oh, that. Dad told me not to spy on the meeting, so I can't,” explained Harry.

Both twin looked at him disbelievingly. “Just because a parent tells you not to do something doesn't mean you can't,” Fred said eventually.

Harry laughed. “No, but he trusts me and I'd like to keep it that way. And anyway, I don't need to eavesdrop on the meeting. He's already told me he'll probably tell me about it.”

“What?” cried the twins. 

Harry shrugged. “Obviously he's not going to tell me everything, but I know what he's doing for the Order, as well as some of the other members.”

George frowned. “Our parents won't tell us anything!”

“Yeah, I kinda figured that out since you lot came here prepared to spy on the meeting,” said Harry.

“You're not going to tell Snape about that, are you?” Fred demanded.

“Of course not!” Harry cried, offended. “He told me not to spy on the meeting, but he didn't say anything about stopping anyone else from doing it. I'm just not joining in.”

The twins nodded slowly. “We can work with this,” George said to Fred.

“We thought we might have to refund you and cut you out of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes,” Fred explained. 

“Well, you don't,” Harry said firmly. “I mean, I'm not going to lie to him if he asks me something, so, I don't know, keep that in mind. But I'm not going to tell on you – or anyone else, for that matter – just because a teacher adopted me.”

“Lying by omission,” George summarised.

“I guess,” Harry said slowly.

“Okay, great,” said Fred. “Because the thing is, a lot of our merchandise isn't exactly teacher friendly.”

“It's nothing personal,” George assured him.

“But we like to help other students have some fun while they're at school -”

“- and we think a lot of our products will end up banned at Hogwarts,” George said proudly.

Harry couldn't help but grin back. “Well, unless he asks me directly, I'll keep my mouth shut.”

“Good man,” Fred said, slapping him on the back.

“Actually, this might help you,” Harry mused. “Having me on board, I mean. Not so much with the other staff, but Dad's less likely to give you detention if it means he'd have to give me one too. He's always let me get away with a lot.”

“Give us a moment,” Fred said.

Harry waited impatiently while the twins turned around to have a short, whispered conversation. They both nodded and then spun around to beam at Harry.

“Never thought Snape's bias towards Slytherins would come in handy for us,” George commented.

“But we'll go with it. In addition to our original agreement -”

“-that is, giving you free products and leaving Draco alone -” George elaborated.

“- we're also going to refrain from testing our new range in Snape's classroom, which is actually quite a sacrifice on our part,” finished Fred.

“How so?” Harry asked suspiciously.

“Our new range is designed to aid students who, for whatever reason, have a need to excuse themselves from the classroom in which they would otherwise be held against their will,” said Fred.

“Skipping class?” Harry asked.

“In a nutshell. Now, obviously some teachers are easier to fool than others,” George said.

“Binns, for example, wouldn't notice if you just stood up and walked out -”

“- but others are sadly more observant -”

“- and Snape and McGonagall are the best,” Fred said disapprovingly.

“We can't stop our customers from using our products in his class once they've bought them,” George warned.

“But we'll make his classroom a peaceful, test-free area,” said Fred.

“And the fact that this also helps you, because Dad's less likely to ask me about something he's not seeing first hand is a complete coincidence?” Harry asked.

“We understand each other!” Fred cried delightedly.

Harry just laughed. “Works for me. But I'd like some of this stuff as soon as it's ready. It'd come in really handy for Divination classes.”

“We've still got a lot of experimentation to go. The products are at a stage that tends to leave us covered in various bodily fluids,” George said.

Harry scrunched up his face. “Do I want to know?”

“No... But here, we've got some Extendable Ears for you,” Fred said, holding out a bunch.

George pulled out a small bag and gave it to Harry. “And this has a variety of different sweets in there. You're already familiar with the Canary Creams, of course, and everything else is fairly self-explanatory. There's also some of our smaller fireworks in there.”

“Fireworks? Cool,” Harry said, looking inside eagerly. 

“Better than Dr Filibusters'. Don't try to Stun or Vanish them if you want to get rid of them – that'll only make them multiply. They'll die out on their own after a while,” said George.

“Thanks,” Harry said. He put the bag and the Extendable Ears in his backpack and zipped it closed. “Anything else?”

“Nah, we're good. Unlike some people, I'd like to spy on this meeting,” said Fred.

They walked out to find Hermione and Ginny sharing one Extendable Ear, with Ron using another by himself.

“Where are Draco and Theo?” asked Harry.

Ginny shot a dirty look at Ron. “Someone wouldn't share, so they went off to explore the house.”

Harry nodded his thanks and wandered downstairs. There was no sign of either Draco or Theo for the first few floors. The house was silent, all the doors were shut, and the only movement was the occasional twitch in the Extendable Ears that were hanging down the centre of the stairwell. On the second floor he caught a snatch of a quiet conversation, and sped up until he came to an open door on the first floor.

He found himself standing on the threshold of a musty-smelling room. Draco and Theo were talking inside, both with their wands lit, as the heavy drapes were closed, blocking all outside light from the room. Harry lit his own wand and joined them in front of a large, elaborate tapestry.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Showing Theo my family tree,” Draco said. “I used to love getting Mother to point out our names when I was little. See?”

He pointed to a spot at knee height. Harry leaned down and read Draco's name, embroidered in golden thread, descending from those of his parents. 

“It's pretty cool,” Harry said, straightening up again.

“I used to think so. But look,” Draco pointed at a small burn hole next to Narcissa's name. “Andromeda should be here.”

“Why'd she get burnt off?” Theo asked.

“She married a Muggle-born and the family never spoke to her again. Not until my father was sent to Azkaban and Mother decided it was time she reunited with my aunt. Sirius should be here,” Draco pointed out another scorch mark, “but he was disowned for running away from home. And yet Bellatrix and Regulus are both still on here, as is my father, despite the fact that they were all Death Eaters.”

“You already knew what some of your family was like,” Harry said cautiously.

“I'm being stupid, I know,” Draco said heavily. “It's just that I used to really like this tapestry, and now it's ruined because I know about all the horrible fucking things the people on here have done.”

“At least your awful relatives are all locked up or dead,” Theo said bitterly. “My father is neither of those things.”

“True,” Draco conceded.

Harry stayed quiet. While he'd always hated the Dursleys, they weren't on the same level as Death Eaters, and he'd certainly never wished them dead. 

“There you are.”

All three boys spun around to see Gemma silhouetted in the doorway. “Theo, Severus wants to talk to you now.”

Theo nodded and followed her out of the room.

“I need cheering up. You should kiss me,” Draco announced.

“Nice sweet talking skills you have there,” Harry responded, though he pocketed his wand and slid his arms around Draco's waist.

“Shut up,” Draco said, pecking Harry on the lips. “I'm standing in the house of my ancestors, many of whom went crazy or evil, or both. I'd like to do something normal and non-evil now.”

“No one's ever called me normal before,” Harry said.

“I'll settle for non-evil then,” Draco said impatiently, and pulled Harry flush against himself. 

Harry could feel the tension in Draco's back through his splayed hands. He ran his hands in smooth circles, trying to get Draco to relax into the kiss. It took a few minutes, but eventually Draco unwound with a soft moan. Harry didn't know how long they kissed for in the darkened room. He was dimly aware of Draco dropping his own wand at some point, sending the light bouncing across the room. 

Harry tried to stop himself from getting hard, acutely aware that anyone could walk into the room at any time. Draco had no such qualms, rubbing his growing erection against Harry's thigh. Harry groaned and threaded one hand through Draco's soft hair, keeping his other hand in the small of Draco's back. Draco responded by sliding one hand down to rest on Harry's arse.

“Draco, your mum wants – oh!”

They sprang apart to see Tonks in the doorway with one hand over her eyes. 

“What does she want?” Draco asked, straightening his robes so that they fell straight to the floor, hiding all evidence. 

“Oh, my eyes,” Tonks groaned dramatically.

“Nym,” Draco snapped.

Tonks laughed and lowered her hand. “The meeting's over and we're all leaving. Where are the others?”

“We'll get them,” Harry offered.

“Cheers,” Tonks said.

Harry waited for Draco to pick up his wand before they set off upstairs. 

“Cheered up enough?” Harry asked slyly.

“Yes, and now I'm mortified. You know Nym is going to tease me about this for the rest of the holidays, right?” Draco muttered.

Harry laughed and nudged Draco. “It could've been someone far worse who walked in. Dad... Your mum... McGonagall... Dumbledore...”

Draco shuddered. “That is a good but terrifying point.”

They found Hermione and the Weasleys on the top floor where they'd left them. The Extendable Ears were no where to be seen. 

“Everyone's leaving now,” Harry told them, ducking into his room to collect his things. He walked back out to find everyone but Draco looking at him with worried expressions – even Ron. “What is it?” he asked uneasily.

“Snape will probably tell you,” George said.

“Okay,” Harry said slowly.

They walked back downstairs in a tense group, with Harry wracking his brains to figure out why everyone seemed to be so worried about him. He shook his head and tried to put on a neutral expression when they reached the ground floor and he saw Severus waiting for him.

“All set?”

“Yeah,” Harry said.

They hadn't taken two steps before there was a loud crashing sound. Harry looked down the hallway, which was packed with what seemed like half the Order, to see Tonks sprawled in front of the umbrella stand, which she'd evidently just tripped over. Not a second later the portrait of Walburga began shouting at the top of her lungs, once again setting off all the other portraits. Sirius and Remus immediately began Stunning them, with Kingsley and then Tonks joining them. The other adults stared around themselves, seemingly never having seen this before – all except for Narcissa.

“Enough,” she muttered, then strode towards Walburga's portrait.

She began talking to it, so softly that Harry couldn't hear what she was saying over the sound of the other portraits. Walburga could evidently hear her fine, though, as she quickly quietened down and began conversing politely. It wasn't until the other portraits had been quietened that Harry was able to make out what they were saying.

“Yes, Aunt Walburga, I agree completely with you, Sirius absolutely shouldn't have inherited your home,” Narcissa said quietly. 

“Traitorous hell-spawn,” Walburga replied, though far quieter than her usual screaming. “You should have inherited, you or Bellatrix. You're the only true remaining Blacks.”

Narcissa stiffened slightly. “I'm afraid Bellatrix wouldn't be suitable.”

“Yes, yes, of course, I'd forgotten about her lack of children. How is your son?” Walburga asked.

By this stage, everyone was watching the conversation in stunned silence, with Sirius leaning on Remus and openly gaping at his mother's portrait. Draco grabbed hold of Harry's arm in a tight grip when he was mentioned.

“He is well. I of course haven't brought him here, not while it is filled with blood-traitors,” Narcissa lied smoothly. Draco relaxed as she continued. “I wouldn't dare risk him becoming influenced by their ideologies. It's bad enough that I have been forced to come here.”

Walburga nodded approvingly. “Yes, they can be sneaky, those Mudbloods and half-breeds. It pains me every time I have to see one of them in my house.”

“Would you like me to relocate your portrait?” Narcissa offered. “I'm sure I could place it in your old bedroom, where you would be undisturbed by the scum Sirius drags in here.”

“That would be wonderful. You always were such a good girl,” Walburga said.

“You'll need to release the Sticking Charm,” Narcissa prompted. 

“Yes, yes, of course,” Walburga said. 

She leaned down out of frame, then sat back up holding her wand. She ran it around the edges of her portrait, which glowed and jiggled on the wall.

“Thank you, Aunt Walburga,” Narcissa said, then smirked. “Thank you for being so remarkably helpful.”

“What?” Walburga gasped, before she realised she'd been played. “ _You lying, traitorous_ –”

Walburga's last scream was cut off as Narcissa Vanished the entire portrait. She turned around and smile at the assembled crowd. “Told you I could take care of it, Sirius. Now pay up.”

Sirius snapped his mouth shut and lurched forward to sweep her into a hug. “Thank you!” he said hoarsely. He released her and handed her a bag of coins, then grinned at the empty space on the wall. “I'm finally free of the old hag!” he cried out, addressing no one in particular.

Severus rolled his eyes and jerked his head at Harry. “We're leaving.”

********

  
The first thing Harry did once they'd returned home was to have a long, hot shower to scrub away the dirty feeling that the dust and cobwebs of Grimmauld Place had left him with. When he got downstairs he found Severus in the kitchen, staring out the window and nursing a cup of tea.

Harry sat down at the kitchen table and poured himself a cup from the still hot teapot. “How'd the meeting go?”

“Did you ever wonder why there were Dementors in Little Whinging?” Severus asked.

Harry frowned at him, puzzled. “Well, yeah, but at the time I was mostly worried about getting them away from me. Didn't you say you thought Voldemort might've sent them?”

“I did,” Severus said, turning around. “But from what we've seen, the Dementors are all still guarding Azkaban, which is still under Ministry control.”

Harry blinked at him. “Wait, you think the _Ministry_ sent them?”

“Narcissa suggested it. Unless the Dark Lord has surreptitiously taken Azkaban but has delayed releasing the incarcerated Death Eaters, it is the only other explanation for the attack.”

“So now Voldemort _and_ the Ministry want me dead?” Harry asked as a mental light bulb switched on. This must be what Hermione and the Weasleys had overheard and been worried about. 

“It's a possibility. The Headmaster has tasked your godfather with observing Azkaban to see if he can ascertain who is controlling the Dementors. Gemma is to make enquiries of her boss.”

Harry frowned unhappily at the mention of Sirius and sipped his tea.

“I'm sure he will be unharmed,” Severus said stiffly.

Harry shook his head. “It's not that. Er... Last night Remus told me about what happened at the Shrieking Shack. In your fifth year.”

Severus went very still. “Did he.”

“Yeah. He thought I already knew, actually, that you would've told me about it.”

“It is not a subject on which I like to dwell,” Severus muttered.

“I figured as much, so I'll be quick. He feels bad about it, you know. Sirius, I mean. He didn't actually mean to kill you. He just wanted to scare you.”

“He certainly won you over quickly,” Severus said bitterly.

“Are you kidding? I'm bloody well furious with him!” Harry said.

“And the wolf?”

Harry shook his head. “Remus was pretty upset when he found out about it the morning after. It was all Sirius' idea, you see. Dad didn't know about it at first, either, and went after you as soon as Sirius told him what he'd done.”

“And you believe him?” Severus asked.

“Yeah, I do. Remus obviously expected me to already know about it, he didn't have time to come up with a lie. He got screwed over by Sirius that night, too, you know.”

Severus stared at him unblinkingly for so long that Harry half expected to feel the tell-tale sensation of Legilimency. It never came, however, and Severus looked away first.

“I'm not trying to excuse what he did. Not at all,” Harry said quietly. “I think it was cruel and stupid and he got off far too easily. But you can't blame Dad or Remus for it.”

“What are you trying to achieve here?” Severus asked, gazing down into his tea cup.

Harry shrugged. “Nothing. But now that we're talking about it, I want to thank you for coming after Draco and Hermione and me when we went to the Shrieking Shack. We thought we were just going to be facing Sirius, not a werewolf, and then Sirius turned out to be innocent anyway... But you must've been terrified.”

“After subjecting you repeatedly to your Boggart that year, it would have been rather hypocritical for me to flee from my own,” Severus muttered.

“Your Boggart's _Remus?_ ” Harry asked in dismay.

Severus nodded curtly. “In his werewolf form. May we move on?”

“Er, sure,” Harry said hastily, now feeling even worse about bringing the subject up in the first place. “You were going to tell me about Mrs Figg, remember?”

“So I was,” said Severus. “Arabella's a Squib. She lives in the Muggle world, but has ties with a lot of witches and wizards, including Albus, who recruited her into the Order during the last war. When you were sent to the Dursleys as an infant, Arabella moved to Little Whinging on Albus' orders, to keep an eye on you in the Muggle world. It's no accident that you were babysat by her.”

Harry didn't quite know what to make of this information. “She's – what – been spying on me my whole life?”

“She wasn't spying on you. She was keeping an eye out for any danger,” said Severus.

“Still creepy,” Harry muttered. “Did Dumbledore tell her to bore me to death with her stupid cats, too, or did she come up with that all on her own?”

“I don't know. You'll have to ask Albus,” said Severus.

Harry shook his head. “It's not that important, I guess. I'll never go back to Little Whinging... What else happened in the meeting?”

“Albus has been stripped of most of his titles, as part of the Ministry's ongoing campaign to discredit him. Naturally, he's making light of it by saying that he doesn't care so long as he remains on the Chocolate Frog cards, but it is an undeniable setback in our efforts to convince the public of the truth.”

“They can't sack him as Headmaster, can they?” Harry asked, suddenly worried.

“Not without the Board of Governors agreeing, and I can't see that happening,” Severus said calmly. “The press is still trying to convince people that you're a liar, and have dragged me into it after they discovered the adoption.”

“You don't sound upset,” Harry said cautiously.

Severus smiled faintly. “I've had a lot of aspersions cast on my character in my life, but rarely does anyone question my intelligence. I'm finding it rather amusing.”

Harry stared at him. “You have the oddest sense of humour sometimes.”

“That I _have_ heard quite a bit.”

********

  
That night after dinner, Harry sat down on the couch and faced Severus in his armchair.

“Have you had any problems clearing your mind thus far?”

Harry shook his head. “It didn't even take that long last night when I was angry with Sirius.”

Severus nodded. “How long does it usually take you?”

“I'm not sure... A couple of minutes?” Harry guessed.

“Good. I want you to try doing it as you would normally do, but with your eyes open. If it helps, pick an object and fix your gaze on that. The window, perhaps.”

Harry let out a long breath and nodded as he raised his eyes to the window. It was nearing dusk, and the sky outside was a dark pink, with a few long clouds drifting across it. Harry stared blankly at them as he focused on slowing down his breathing. 

He felt himself slipping into the usual relaxed state he fell into when he cleared his mind, but this time he was vaguely aware of the sky outside turning purple and growing darker. The clouds had all blown out of view and stars were beginning to twinkle when he heard his name and he jerked upright. To his surprise, Severus had gotten out of his chair and was standing next to the fireplace.

“When did you get up?”

“Ten minutes ago,” Severus said with a frown. “You didn't notice?”

“No. I did notice the sky getting darker,” Harry admitted.

Severus hummed thoughtfully. “You're certainly quick at clearing your mind. The problem is that you still don't keep much awareness of your surroundings.”

“Well how do you do it?” Harry asked.

“I just do it, I don't need to think about it,” Severus said, sitting back down. “I think part of the problem is that you don't have a natural aptitude for Occlumency like I do, so your brain has to work harder to achieve what costs me very little effort. As a result you overcompensate, leaving you in this unresponsive state.”

Harry frowned. “So how do I fix that?”

“Practise.”


	6. In Which Severus has Great Success with Harry's Birthday Present

Apart from walking to Cerrigydrudion for groceries and being Apparated to Holyhead to pick up his new glasses, Harry spent most of the remaining days leading up to his birthday at home with Severus. Harry had been nervous walking to Cerrigydrudion the first time, dreading a repeat of last time when they passed the graveyard. He could tell Severus was uneasy as well, but although Harry had become clammy and shaky, he hadn't had another panic attack. Severus attended two more meetings at Grimmauld Place. As they were shorter meetings, he deemed it safe to allow Harry to Floo over to Malfoy Manor for the duration.

Harry and Severus spent most of their mornings in the garden, pruning and weeding it back into order. After lunch, part of the afternoon was set aside for Severus to help Harry practise clearing his mind. Unfortunately, while he now found it easy enough to do so while lying in bed in the dark, he was having trouble achieving a blank mind whilst remaining alert. He was able to keep track of what he could see directly in front of him but not in his peripheral vision, and the only sound he could reliably recognise was his own name. Both he and Severus were getting frustrated with his slow progress.

Far more satisfying were the other skills Severus was teaching Harry. Harry easily picked up the basic first aid spells, but was most excited by learning how to send messages via Patronus.

One sunny morning found Harry and Severus standing on opposite sides of the lounge room, the latter holding his wand up. “ _Expecto patronum_ ,” he said. His doe sprung from his wand and stood expectantly in front of him. “Sending a message requires you to visualise the intended recipient – you may wish to use a happy memory that involves them in order to have a clear mental image.”

Harry nodded and thought about the first night he'd come to home to Fen House, as Severus' son. “ _Expecto patronum_ ,” he said, smiling at his fawn when he appeared. 

“You need to directly address your Patronus and state who the message is for,” Severus told him, then looked at his doe. “For Harry Potter. Speak your message. When you're done, your Patronus will leave to deliver it.”

A second after Severus had finished speaking, his doe turned and trotted across the room and repeated his words to Harry, before fading away.

Harry nodded and looked at his fawn. “For Severus Snape. Like this?”

A second later his fawn bounded across the room to stand in front of Severus. “Like this?” it asked in Harry's voice.

“Cool!” Harry cried.

“It's not exactly difficult,” Severus said, though he was smiling. “If your Patronus has a large distance to travel to reach the recipient, it will traverse most of that distance in a method similar to Apparition – remember how Narcissa's tiger appeared in the house?”

Harry nodded. “So it's really good for long distance, 'cause it's fast.”

“Yes, but it's completely useless for anything you wish to keep confidential, as your Patronus will speak its message to the recipient upon finding them, regardless of who may be near them,” Severus warned him.

“Unless I'm talking to Draco in Parseltongue,” Harry mused 

Severus cocked his head. “That could work. The Dark Lord is, after all, the only other known Parselmouth. If he's close enough to overhear your conversation you've got bigger problems.”

Harry nodded. “And writing in Parseltongue would still be okay, yeah?”

“No cypher is unbreakable if one has the time and will to work on cracking it,” Severus said. “Though only a Parselmouth would be able to attempt to do so... I cannot see the Dark Lord making the effort, not unless he had reason to believe you and Draco were corresponding about sensitive Order business.”

“We're not,” Harry assured him. “So far, he's just written to tell me about Theo running away from home, and I replied.”

Severus frowned in thought. “If you or Draco have any parchment on which you have Parseltongue and English translations you should destroy it, but apart from that you'll be fine.”

“I'll write to him tonight,” Harry promised.

********

  
Hedwig returned the next day, swooping down to rest on Harry's windowsill with Draco's reply attached to her leg. Harry read it at his desk, eager for the distraction from his History of Magic homework.

_Dear Harry,_  
_Clearly Snape's as paranoid as you are, but I've done as requested. If you've no plans tomorrow, Mother would like you and Snape to come over for a birthday dinner. Let me know if you can make it._  
_Draco_

Harry fed Hedwig an owl treat and gave her a pat before he cast his Patronus. “For Severus Snape. Narcissa wants us to go over to the Manor for dinner tomorrow.”

Severus' doe trotted into the room a couple of minutes later. “Unless you have somehow lost the use of your legs since I last saw you, come down and speak to me in the barn.”

Harry eyed the doe as he left his room, wondering how exactly Severus had managed to make his Patronus' expression so disapproving. When he got to the barn he found Severus in the middle of brewing something that was giving off a strong, almost medicinal smell. There was another, larger cauldron simmering off to one side and emitting a dark violet steam.

“What are you making?” Harry asked as he leaned against the workbench. 

“Anti-venom and Sun Shield Potion,” Severus replied. “Thank you for gracing me with your presence.”

Harry just grinned. “I was doing my homework. Surely, as my teacher, you should be encouraging me in that.”

“I think you can spare ten minutes to walk down here,” Severus drawled.

“So, can we go?” Harry asked.

“Very well,” Severus said.

“Thanks,” Harry said, then settled in to watch as Severus began stirring the potion in a complicated twisted loop. “Why are you making anti-venom?” He didn't need to ask about the Sun Shield Potion; Severus slathered vast quantities of it on himself before venturing out to garden everyday.

“Because I don't have any,” Severus said blandly.

Harry rolled his eyes, recognising from Severus' tone that he wasn't going to elaborate anytime soon. “I'll go tell Draco we're coming, then.”

Harry returned to his room and began hunting for a piece of parchment when he had a better idea. He pictured kissing Draco and cast his Patronus. “For Draco Malfoy. We'll be there. What time should we arrive?”

His fawn took a few steps before leaping and disappearing into thin air. Hoping he'd done it right, Harry sat back down at his desk and tried to focus on his homework. He'd only just found his place in the text again when Hedwig gave a surprised trill. Harry looked up and around to see Narcissa's tiger land in the centre of his room.

“Draco would like me to tell you that there's no need to show off with your fancy, talking Patronus, but I think I'll let him tell you that tomorrow. You may arrive anytime after three o'clock.”

Harry chuckled at Narcissa's message, gave another owl treat to Hedwig (who was glaring suspiciously at where the Patronus had disappeared), and wondered if Hermione would mind if he brought his Firebolt along.

********

  
Harry woke up earlier than usual on his birthday, and was too excited to try to get back to sleep. He got dressed quickly and ran downstairs, only to find the place deserted.

“Dad?” he shouted.

His only reply was silence, broken by some far off birdsong. It wasn't unusual for Severus to brew before breakfast, so Harry wandered out to the barn. It was pristinely neat, as usual, and contained no sign of Severus. Harry frowned around himself, trying not to worry. There had to be a perfectly reasonable explanation as to why Severus had disappeared. Harry was making his way back to the house, when he caught sight of some black robes trailing slowly through the front door.

Harry froze. The Death Eaters couldn't have found them. Not here. The house was under Fidelius, and McGonagall would never have betrayed them. 

That's what your parents thought about Pettigrew, a little voice said in his head. 

Harry ignored it, gripped his wand and crept forward. His scar wasn't hurting, so it couldn't be Voldemort, though that didn't necessarily rule out any of his followers.

The front door was still open when he got there, for which he was thankful, as its hinges were rather squeaky. Harry listened for any movement inside, then cautiously edged inside. There was no sign of anyone - except for an oddly shaped basket sitting on the kitchen table.

Harry spared a quick glance up the stairs, saw no sign that anyone had gone upstairs, and walked forward slowly with his wand pointed straight ahead of him. There was a scuffling sound and then someone in black robes backed out of the pantry. 

“ _Expelliarmus!_ ” Harry cried.

He watched in confusion as a bulb of garlic and a bunch of fresh parsley soared through the air and landed at his feet. He looked up to see Severus staring at him.

“Explain.”

“Er... I thought you were a Death Eater,” Harry said sheepishly.

Severus blinked. “Why?”

“You weren't here when I got up so I went out to look for you in the barn. When I didn't find you anywhere I thought something might've happened to you, and then I saw someone in black robes going inside...” Harry ran a hand through his hair in embarrassment. “I'm an idiot, I know.”

“I went to pick up your birthday present,” Severus said, gesturing at the basket. “If I'd thought you would arise before I returned I would have left a note.”

“Oh,” Harry said faintly, feeling more and more stupid.

“You did a good job Disarming me,” Severus said, his lips now twitching. 

Harry squatted down to retrieve the food at his feet, smiling at the praise. “What's for breakfast?”

“Omelettes. Though if you'd rather something else, kindly say so now instead of throwing the ingredients around the house,” Severus chuckled. 

“Omelettes are good,” Harry said, walking over to drop the food on the bench where he now saw Severus had a carton of eggs waiting.

Severus reached over and pulled him into a one-armed hug. “Happy birthday, Harry. I'm sorry if I scared you.”

“Thanks,” Harry said.

“Go on,” Severus said, pointing at the basket. “Open it.”

Harry lifted the lid off the basket to reveal a small, dark grey-green snake lying curled up on the bottom of the basket. It raised its head and regarded Harry timidly. 

“ _Hi_ ,” he said softly.

The snake flicked its black tongue out to test the air. Instead of replying, it simply curled in on itself, tighter than before.

“It's a boomslang. They're very shy creatures,” Severus said, looking over Harry's shoulder into the basket. “He'll come around.”

“ _I'll let you rest now, but I'll come back later. I'll bring you something to eat_ ,” Harry hissed quietly.

The snake merely watched him warily until he replaced the basket lid.

Harry immediately spun around to face Severus. “So it's a he? Where did you get him? Can I take him to Hogwarts?”

Severus began cracking eggs into a mixing bowl. “He's a he, yes. I bought him off a snake handler who supplies apothecaries. He's a boomslang. As for Hogwarts...”

“I can't take him with me?” Harry asked.

“Did I say that?” Severus asked. “No, I did not. However, he _is_ venomous, Harry. He'll be lethal before he's fully grown. You will need to have gained his trust before we return to Hogwarts, or else he will need to be kept in an unbreakable container.”

Harry rinsed the parsley under the tap and began chopping it. “I can do that. Why'd you get me a lethal snake? Wouldn't a non-venomous one have been less complicated?”

“I had to replenish my supplies of boomslang skin after they were all stolen over the last year,” Severus began, scowling at the memory. “I had to buy in such bulk that the apothecary I went to directed me to their supplier. I had already decided to buy you a snake for your birthday, and whilst at the suppliers it occurred to me that it would be far more convenient to simply buy you the boomslang.”

Harry nodded. “And this way you'll get extra fresh skin.”

Severus smirked. “True. I also thought that a venomous snake might be useful as an extra form of defence for you. Just in case.”

“Right,” Harry said.

“Now, about this morning. Why did you enter the house if you thought there was a Death Eater inside?” Severus asked.

Harry handed Severus the chopping board of parsley before answering. “I thought you might be in danger.”

“You intended to save me?” Severus asked, tipping the omelette mixture into a frying pan.

“Of course,” Harry said.

“Set the table,” Severus ordered.

By the time Harry had set the table and made two cups of tea, Severus had their omelettes waiting for them.

“This is really good,” Harry said after the first mouthful.

“Thank you,” Severus said, then grew serious. “Harry, if you ever find yourself in a situation like this morning, I do not want you coming after me.”

Harry dropped his cutlery. “What? Why?”

“Because if an assailant has managed to incapacitate me, then they'll be able to do the same to you. You need to get to safety.”

“You want me to run away?” Harry asked.

“Yes, I do. I'll make some Portkeys later, to take you to various safe places – Hogwarts and Grimmauld Place, perhaps Malfoy Manor. If anything happens to me, grab the nearest one and leave.”

“No.”

“Don't argue about this.”

“Then change the subject, because I'm not leaving you,” Harry said stubbornly. “And I don't think you should be picking a fight with me on my birthday.”

Severus' nostrils flared but he jerked his head in an irritable nod. “Fine. We'll discuss this tomorrow.”

“Fine,” Harry agreed.

There was a short, tense silence, during which Harry tried to think of a way he could get Severus to change his mind about the Portkeys.

“Have you any idea of what you will name your snake?” Severus asked.

Harry glance over at the basket and shook his head. “No idea. I got Hedwig's name out of my History of Magic textbook, so maybe I'll try that method again. Maybe name him after a famous Slytherin?”

Severus cocked his head. “Merlin would be the obvious choice.”

Harry considered this. “Nah, doesn't sound snakey enough.”

“I have some mythology books, why don't you choose something from one of them? You can't go wrong with a classical name. Perhaps something Greek. Latin would, of course, be superior.”

“Gee, what an unexpected opinion for you to have, _Severus_ ,” Harry laughed.

Severus smirked back at him. “Doesn't mean I'm wrong.”

Once he'd finished breakfast, Harry went upstairs to pick up his snake encyclopaedia. He brought it back down to the kitchen to read the entry on boomslangs, while across the table, Severus pored through an ancient potions book.

“Okay, this says boomslangs mainly eat small lizards or frogs,” Harry said, raising his head. “Do we have any of those?”

“I would imagine there would be lizards in the garden, but he shan't be ready to eat them for another couple of months. For now, the breeder said a chicken egg every two days,” Severus said.

Harry rummaged through the fridge and emerged with an egg which he carried over to the table. He carefully lifted the lid off the basket again and peered inside. The snake was still curled up defensively, and didn't say anything when it saw him.

“ _Hello again. I brought you a chicken egg, if you're hungry_ ,” Harry said.

The snake stretched its head up minutely and tasted the air again. “ _What's chicken?_ ” it asked in a small voice.

Harry grinned to hear the snake finally speak. “ _It's a bird. I think your old owner used to feed these to you. Do you want it?_ ”

“ _Yes, please. I like bird eggs_ ,” the snake said.

Harry slowly lowered his hand to drop the egg at the base of the basket. He'd only just retrieved his hand when the snake lunged, almost too quick for Harry's eyes to track it. A second later he was watching, wide-eyed, as a bulge worked its way down the snake's throat.

“ _Wow, you're really fast_ ,” Harry said.

“ _Thank you_.”

“ _I'm Harry, by the way_.”

“ _I don't have a name_ ,” the snake said.

“ _Would you like one?_ ”

The snake flicked its tongue out eagerly. “ _Yes, please. Some of the other snakes I was kept with got given names, but I never did._ ”

“ _The breeder was a Parselmouth?_ ” Harry asked, surprised.

“ _What's that?_ ”

“ _A human like me who can speak to snakes._ ”

“ _Oh, no, we never understood him. But he would make special noises for some of the older snakes._ ”

“ _Well, do you want to help me pick out a name for you?_ ” Harry asked.

He waited hopefully as the snake as stared up him. “ _Yes, please._ ”

“ _Brilliant! I'll be right back,_ ” Harry said enthusiastically. He went to get off his chair only to have Severus hold out a book for him. He took it and turned it over curiously. _Serpents in Mythology_ read the title. “Do you have a book on every subject in the world?” he asked.

Severus snorted. “Not quite. You cannot be that surprised with this particular book, given that I'm both a Slytherin and – according to you – a swot.”

“Luckily for me,” Harry said, flipping open the book. “Thanks.”

He spent a good hour suggesting names to the snake, who asked to hear the mythology of each serpent. Harry had had no idea there were so many serpents in mythology, and from all over the world. He just wanted the snake to make its mind up soon, but it seemed the snake was determined to pick the perfect name. He had even uncoiled himself to peek over the top of the basket at the book that Harry had lying open on the table.

“ _Absolutely not,_ ” Harry said, when the snake expressed interest in the nagas from India.

“ _What's wrong?_ ” the snake asked, immediately withdrawing back into the basket.

“ _There's an evil lunatic who wants to kill me and feed me to his snake,_ ” Harry said slowly. “ _That snake's called Nagini. Voldemort must've gotten the name from these nagas._ ”

“ _I'm sorry,_ ” the snake said quickly.

Harry shook his head. “ _It's not your fault. How were you supposed to know? We'll just pick something else._ ” The snake re-emerged, casting a wary glance at Severus, and Harry pointed at the next entry. “ _Here. Jormungandr – wait, never mind, he's supposed to poison the sky at the end of the world... Oh, this sounds good. Ladon. He just protected some apples in a garden. Nothing wrong with that._ ”

The snake stretched his neck closer to the page to look at the picture. “ _Ladon. I like the sound of that. And I like gardens._ ”

“ _You want to go with Ladon?_ ” Harry asked.

“ _Yes, please._ ”

“ _Ladon it is, then,_ ” Harry declared, beaming. “ _You know, we've got a big garden here. Do you want me to show you around?_ ”

Ladon slithered half out of the basket. “ _Yes, please._ ”

Harry held out his hand. “ _Climb onto my arm and I'll take you around._ ”

“What are you doing?” Severus asked.

“Taking Ladon to look at the garden. Apparently he likes them,” Harry said.

Severus pulled a small bottle out of his robe. “Take this with you. It's anti-venom. If he bites you, drink the entire bottle.”

Harry took the bottle of anti-venom. “Thanks. But he won't.”

“Appropriate name, incidentally,” Severus said with a chuckle.

Harry's brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“Read the rest of the entry on the mythological Ladon when you return,” was all Severus said.

********

  
Harry was sitting on a bough of an oak tree at the base of the garden, leaning against the trunk when Severus walked out to find him. He stopped at the base of the tree and looked up in amusement.

“Enjoying yourself?”

Harry grinned down at him. “Yeah. Makes a nice change, climbing a tree because I want to and not because there's a rabid bulldog after me.”

Severus pursed his lips. “I gather Ladon is up there with you?”

“Yeah,” Harry said, pointing at a branch a few metres above himself. 

Ladon was coiled around the very tip of the branch, his neck and head stretching out into the air beyond as he surveyed the garden with his tongue darting in and out rapidly.

“Unless you want to be late, you need to come in and get ready. Ladon will have to go back into his basket. You don't want to risk Hedwig thinking of him as prey,” Severus cautioned.

Harry nodded and called for Ladon to come down. He did so reluctantly, though he was quick enough to wrap himself around Harry's wrist again. “ _Can I come out here again tomorrow?_ ”

“ _Sure, but I need to put you back into your basket now. Dad and I are going out for a few hours and I don't want my owl, Hedwig, to find you and try to eat you. Dad and I will be back later today._ ”

Ladon momentarily coiled tighter around Harry's arm at the mention of Hedwig, and only slowly relaxed. “ _Promise?_ ”

“ _I promise._ ”

Harry put Ladon gently back into his basket before heading upstairs to shower and change into his green robes. When he checked in on Ladon just before leaving, he found him curled up and sleeping peacefully.

“Thank you,” Harry said, walking down the garden path after Severus. “I forgot to say it this morning, 'cause I was so excited. But thanks. For Ladon.”

“You're welcome. I'm glad you like him.”

Harry goggled after him. “Are you kidding? He's the best present anyone's ever given me! Well, equal with Hedwig.”

Severus' cheeks were faintly red when he turned to close the gate, but he merely held his arm out to Disapparate. Harry grasped it and a few seconds later they were standing in front of the gates of Malfoy Manor. They walked straight through the gates, which dissolved like smoke, and began heading up the long drive.

They were halfway up the drive when a loud squawk sounded from behind a rosebush to Harry's right. He jumped and looked over to see the white tail of a peacock fanning out. Harry pulled his wand out of his robe and stepped a little closer to Severus, who laughed.

“It's just a peacock, Harry.”

Harry eyed the peacock as it walked out into full view. “Yeah, and they've all gone feral.”

Severus laughed again. “Gone feral? What on earth does a feral peacock – _stupefy!_ ”

Harry jerked around to see a Stunned peacock on the other side of the drive, having evidently tried to rush Severus. There was another squawk from his right, and he swung his wand back around. “ _Protego!_ ”

Severus stared between the two peacocks, one Stunned, the other pecking viciously at Harry's Shield Charm. “That was unexpected,” he said finally.

Harry raised his eyebrows.

“Yes, yes, you told me so. Forgive me for not taking you seriously,” Severus sighed. “Impressive Shield Charm, by the way.”

“Thanks,” Harry said.

He cancelled the charm when the peacock gave up and retreated back into the bushes, but he kept his wand out as they walked the rest of the way to the house.

The front door opened just as they reached it, and Dobby stepped out beaming. “Happy birthday, Harry Potter!”

“Hi, Dobby,” Harry replied. 

Dobby stepped aside and waved them in. “Dobby is showing you to the lounge,” he said, then froze halfway through shutting the door. “If you is excusing me, Dobby is needing to go round up the peacocks again. Dobby is being right back!”

“Don't worry about us, I know the way,” Harry said. 

“Thank you, Harry Potter!” Dobby said, then frowned fiercely and ran outside shouting. “Bad peacocks!”

Severus stood still, staring after him. “Does that elf usually dress in what I can only assume is a Muggle child's princess costume?”

Harry laughed and led the way to the lounge. “I've seen him wear that tiara before and he always wears those sandals, but I think the dress might be one of Narcissa's old ones. I know she gives him her old clothes sometimes.”

“Feral peacocks and cross-dressing house-elves,” Severus muttered, shaking his head. “I almost shudder to think what we shall find in the lounge.”

As it turned out, the lounge didn't contain anything more surprising than Tracey. She was in the middle of a spirited discussion with Theo and Hermione, whilst Draco played chess with Narcissa. She spotted the new arrivals first and rose to greet them. 

“Happy birthday, Harry. Severus, why don't you join me for a drink while the children amuse themselves?” she asked. “Dinner shan't be served for a few hours yet.”

Harry had to bite his lip to keep from laughing at Severus' evident relief at being given a reprieve from socialising with four of his students just yet. 

Draco took Harry's hand. “Come on, we've presents for you.”

“I wasn't expecting to see you here,” Harry said to Tracey, grinning at her. 

“I wanted to see Theo, and he told me to come today for your birthday,” she explained.

“And thank fuck for that,” Draco interjected. “These three have been talking about Arithmancy stuff all morning, but I told them they had to stop when you got here. I don't think I could handle an entire day of that. It's bad enough with Hermione and Theo camping out in the library.”

“We don't camp there,” Hermione told Harry.

“You're still boring me to tears,” Draco said. “I thought it would be fun having you and Theo here. He may as well have gone to stay at Blaise's for all I've seen you.”

“Why _aren't_ you at Blaise's?” Harry asked Theo. “I mean, he's your best friend...”

Theo shrugged. “Of all my friends, Draco knows what it's like to have a Death Eater for a father and disagree with him. Besides, Blaise's step-father's sick, and we all know what that means...”

“We do?” Hermione asked.

Draco made a chopping motion across his throat.

Hermione's eyes widened. “What's wrong with him?”

Theo shrugged. “No idea. No one ever knows what's wrong with them. They just get sick and die, and Ms Zabini gets left with their gold.”

“This one's lasted a while, though,” Draco said thoughtfully. “What's it been, five years? Six?”

“It's a record,” Theo agreed. “Even Blaise's father only lasted a year or two. He was still a baby when his father snuffed it.”

“Just how many husbands has she had?” Hermione asked.

“This is the seventh,” Theo said. 

Hermione's eyes somehow got even wider. “And no one's ever investigated her for – you know...” 

“If they have, they've never proved anything,” Tracey said.

“She couldn't have killed any of them. She's friends with Mother, and Mother wouldn't be friends with a murderer,” Draco said decisively, pushing open his bedroom door.

“What if she just doesn't know about it?” Harry asked.

“Not even Blaise knows for sure,” Theo added.

“Mother wouldn't be friends with a murderer,” Draco repeated.

Harry shared a glance with Hermione. He could tell that she too was remembering that Narcissa was still technically married to a Death Eater. On the other hand, Harry had met Lucrezia Zabini last year, and she'd seemed nice enough...

“Enough,” Draco declared. “No more Arithmancy, no more speculation about Ms Zabini. It's present time.”

There was a small pile of presents sitting on Draco's bed. Harry opened them to find a Broomstick Servicing Kit from Hermione; a soft, warm, black cloak with a swirling, silver pattern embroidered along the hem from the Malfoys; a box of Honeydukes chocolates from Tracey and Theo; and a black motorcycle helmet and leather jacket from Sirius and Remus.

“Mother did invite them today, but they're busy,” Draco said.

Harry nodded; he suspected that their absence was due to the unpleasantness that had occurred when he'd stayed at Grimmauld Place. He decided he'd write to them when he got home and thank them for their present.

“What did Snape end up getting you?” Draco asked.

Harry grinned. “A snake. He's a boomslang, and pretty young – only a couple of months, I think. He's young enough that he's pretty clueless about a lot of things – he asks questions about everything. But he's already venomous, so Dad brewed a big batch of anti-venom earlier just in case. I've called him Ladon.”

“You got a snake?” Draco asked enviously. “Can I meet him?”

“I guess. He's really shy, though, so not for a while. I'd like to get him more comfortable with me first,” Harry said apologetically. “He's started talking to me, but he's still kinda scared of Dad.”

“So's half of Hogwarts,” Hermione muttered to Tracey and Theo.

Harry ignored their sniggering. “I'll owl you when he's up to meeting you,” he said to Draco.

“You sure you don't want to show off and send me a talking Patronus again?” Draco asked archly.

“You jealous?” Harry teased.

“No,” Draco said unconvincingly.

“Yes,” the other three said in unison.

Harry shrugged. “One of the perks of having a teacher for a dad, I guess.”

“Whatever,” said Draco. “Let's go watch a movie.”

Everyone else perked up whilst Harry looked at Draco in confusion. “How?”

Draco grinned. “On my new television. Mother got me one for my birthday, and Uncle Ted set it up for me.”

“It's all he does now, watch videos on the telly,” Hermione stage-whispered.

“Forgive me for not wanting to witness you and Theo drooling over our library,” Draco retorted as he led them out of his room. 

One of the smaller parlours downstairs had been designated as the television room, with a couch and chairs set up around the screen. It was far less formal than most of the rooms at Malfoy Manor, and if it hadn't been for the candle sconces lining the walls of the room, Harry would have thought himself in a Muggle home.

Harry sat on the couch next to Hermione as Draco and Theo began jostling over the remote.

“They're always like this,” Hermione whispered to Harry as they watched on.

Harry stifled a laugh at the look of concentration on Draco's face as he regained possession of the remote. “I thought you had a TV?” he asked Tracey. “Shouldn't Theo be used to them by now?”

“Yes, but this is a newer model than I have, so Theo's as excited as a little kid,” Tracey said from the armchair.

“Am not,” Theo called over his shoulder.

“Shh! It's starting!” Draco said, hurrying over to sit next to Harry.

“Draco, it's just the trailers,” Harry said.

“They're my favourite part,” Draco told him. “How else will I know which videos I want to buy next?”

“He makes a good point,” Hermione said to Harry with faux seriousness.

“What are we watching?” Harry asked.

“ _Pulp Fiction_. You haven't seen it, have you?”

“Never even heard of it,” Harry assured him.

“Good,” Draco said, smiling in relief, before turning sly. “Although, if you don't want to watch this, we could always watch _Bambi_. It is your birthday, after all, and we all know how much you love deer.”

“I'm sure this will be fine,” Harry drawled over Hermione's laughter.

Theo sat on the floor in front of Tracey and frowned over in confusion. “Deer?”

“He's just being a git,” Harry said.

“Right,” Theo said, settling back against Tracey's knees when Draco shushed him.

Harry enjoyed the movie – what little he heard of it, that is. Draco had a thousand questions about Muggle culture that Harry and Hermione did their best to answer, and Tracey and Theo had quite a few of their own.

“Wouldn't you already know a lot of this, since your uncle married a Muggle?” Harry eventually asked Tracey. “I mean, your family would've come across a lot of this, surely.”

Tracey gave him a sad smile. “Yeah, but when my uncle and aunt got murdered, my parents drew away from the Muggle world. They didn't have anything to do with it until I got interested in it.”

“Oh,” Harry said faintly. 

Theo reached up and squeezed Tracey's hand, and the topic was forgotten due to the distraction afforded by the movie.

“So did you like it?” Draco asked Harry once the movie was over.

“Yeah, it was great,” Harry said honestly. “Do you always ask so many questions when you're watching a movie?”

“Yes,” Hermione said feelingly.

Draco pulled a face at her. “Like you can talk. Anyway, Harry, I have another present for you in my room. Come on. The rest of you stay here.”

Harry followed Draco to his bedroom with a bit of confusion, not having seen any other presents when they'd left the room earlier. 

“How come you didn't just give it to me earlier?” he asked as they neared Draco's room.

“Because,” Draco said, pushing open the door and shooing Harry inside, “I didn't want,” he shut the door and pinned Harry to it, “to have an audience.”

“Oh,” was all Harry got out before his mouth was claimed for other uses.

“Happy birthday,” Draco whispered, more into Harry's mouth than against it.

Harry simply grinned and traced his tongue around Draco's lips, before slipping it inside his mouth, where it was quickly met with Draco's own tongue. As Harry sucked on it lightly, Draco manoeuvred one of his thighs between Harry's leg.

Harry moaned and pressed his own leg to Draco's groin. He rubbed it up and down a few times, stopping only when Draco took over. He ground himself onto Harry's leg whilst moving his own leg that was still trapped between Harry's thighs. Harry felt a growing hardness against his right thigh and felt a rush of excitement. He tore his mouth away from Draco's to trail kisses down his neck.

“Harry...” Draco moaned.

He ran his hand through Harry's hair and gently tugged his head to the side in order to gain access to Harry's ear. It was Harry's turn to moan when he felt Draco trace the curl of his ear with his tongue.

He dragged his hands down Draco's back, momentarily annoyed that he was wearing robes, as he would have liked to get his hands up under Draco's shirt to feel his skin. He contented himself with pressing himself more firmly against Draco's lower body, groaning in satisfaction when he elicited an answering groan from Draco.

It only took a minute or two more before Draco's grip on Harry's shoulder blades tightened and he shuddered, biting down on Harry's earlobe. Feeling that, it wasn't long before Harry was shaking through his own orgasm. When it was over he raised his head from the crook of Draco's neck and kissed him deeply.

“You give the best presents.”

“I do, don't I,” Draco said smugly. “I've been thinking about doing this all day.”

Harry knew his smile was goofy and he didn't care. “Really?”

“More or less. You haven't?”

“I've spent most of the day thinking about my snake, actually,” Harry confessed.

Draco sniggered. “So have I.”

Harry groaned and drew his wand. “That was Blaise worthy, you git. _Scourgify_.”

Draco smiled when he felt the mess in his pants clear away. “Thank you. I suppose we should join the others.”

Harry grimaced, only half joking when he asked, “do we have to?”

“Yes, or Mother will kill me,” Draco said sternly. He softened the blow by giving Harry one last slow, gentle kiss before he pulled him out of his bedroom. “I like your new glasses, by the way.”

Harry touched the side of the frame self-consciously. “Thanks.”

The others were still in the TV room where they'd left them, though all three of them were now sitting on the couch as they argued about _Pulp Fiction_. 

“What do you think?” Theo asked the other boys as soon as they appeared in the doorway.

“About what?” Draco asked warily.

He was spared from having to come up with an answer by the arrival of Tilly. “Master Draco, Mistress is saying that dinner is being served on the balcony.”

“Thank you, Tilly,” Draco said automatically.

“Hi, Tilly,” Harry added, giving a small wave.

“Hello, sir! Happy birthday, sir!” Tilly squealed excitedly.

“How've you been?” Harry asked.

“Very well, sir! Tilly is having lots of work now that Master Draco has guests here!”

Hermione looked stricken at that. “Tilly, you needn't do anything on my behalf.”

Tilly shook her head. “Tilly is liking the work, miss!”

“We're on our way now, Tilly,” Draco said hastily, before Hermione could get properly indignant.

“Yes, Master Draco,” Tilly said, giving a swift bow before Disapparating.

When they reached the balcony, Severus and Narcissa were already sitting at the table, on either side of Kingsley. He'd evidently just finished work, as he was still wearing his red Auror robes. He looked absolutely exhausted, though he did smile at Harry and wish him a happy birthday.

Dinner was just as delicious as it always was at the Manor. Narcissa had once again ordered the elves to serve quail, and Harry gave her a grateful smile as Dobby and Tilly served the first course.

“Did you hear today's news about Falmouth's new Beater?” Kingsley asked Draco.

He nodded eagerly. “I think we've got a good chance this year now.”

Theo snorted. “Please, the Tornados can out fly the Falcons any day of the week.”

“Your Chasers barely know which way is up!” Draco retorted.

“What about Holyhead?” Harry asked.

“So you've finally picked a team?” Draco asked. “About time. They're alright... Bit of a weak Keeper though.”

“You picked the all women team? Wouldn't you want one that has some attractive men in it?” Theo teased.

“They're my local team now. And anyway, I'm not into Quidditch because of the hot guys,” Harry said, laughing. 

“No, that'd be Hermione,” Tracey said.

Hermione rolled her eyes. “That's not true.”

“Right. And the fact that your interest in Quidditch has increased since you've entered a long distance relationship with Viktor is a complete coincidence, is it?” Draco asked.

“Yes,” Hermione said, sipping her champagne.

“Wait, you guys are in an actual relationship? Since when?” asked Harry.

“Officially? Since the last day of term,” said Hermione. “I'm sorry I didn't tell you earlier, Harry, but I didn't want to tell you in writing.”

“That's okay,” Harry said, “you can tell me all about it after dinner.”

Hermione smiled. “Okay.”

Draco laughed. “Of course she didn't want to write to you, Harry. She and Viktor write enormously long letters to each other every week. That poor owl is going to drop dead from exhaustion any day now!”

“You're such a drama queen,” Hermione laughed.

“No I'm not.”

There was a long moment of complete silence at the table.

Narcissa cleared her throat. “Severus, would you like to visit the library before you leave tonight?”

“That would be appreciated,” he said, his mouth twitching.

“You don't agree with her, do you?” Draco asked Harry.

“Er...”

“Prat.”

“Would it help if I told you I think it's cute?” Harry asked hopefully.

Draco nodded. “Very much so.”

“I think it's cute,” Harry said. 

“Christ,” Theo muttered.

********

  
Harry and Severus didn't get home from Malfoy Manor until late. Harry was laden down with his gifts and the remains of a very large, very tasty birthday cake. He dumped the gifts on the kitchen table, put the cake in the fridge, and then opened up Ladon's basket.

“ _We're home. You hungry?_ ”

Ladon lifted his head. “ _I already ate today._ ”

“ _Oh, right,_ ” Harry said, feeling stupid. He was so used to giving Hedwig little snacks that he'd forgotten that snakes were different.

“ _That's okay. I'm just glad you're back,_ ” Ladon said shyly.

“ _Thanks,_ ” Harry said. He reached out and smiled when Ladon immediately stretched up to coil himself around his wrist. “ _Did you miss me?_ ”

“ _Yes. I enjoyed our talk this morning._ ”

“ _So did I. Speaking of which, my boyfriend wants to meet you. He can talk to snakes as well. His name's Draco._ ”

Ladon tightened his hold slightly. “ _Will he like me?_ ”

“ _Of course he will._ ”

Ladon relaxed again. “ _Okay. What's a boyfriend?_ ”

Harry stifled a laugh; he was slowly getting used to the odd questions Ladon came up with. “ _Er... He's like my mate. Only we're not trying to, er, breed._ ”

“ _Then what's the point?_ ”

“ _The point is that we like each other, so we're dating. Humans, er, mate differently than snakes do._ ”

“Harry, bring Ladon into the lounge,” Severus called.

“Okay,” Harry called back. He walked over to the couch and curled up in the corner of it, gently stroking Ladon's head with a finger. He smiled when the boomslang tilted his head in pleasure.

“I thought we'd try something a little different with your Occlumency today,” Severus said.

“Okay,” Harry said warily. 

“I'd like you to ask Ladon to slowly crawl over your arms as you clear your mind. You are not to watch him while he does so. I want to see how well you can keep track of tactile stimulus.”

Harry nodded. “ _Can you help me with my lesson?_ ”

“ _How?_ ”

“ _Dad wants you to slowly crawl over my arms while I clear my mind._ ”

Ladon's tongue flicked out. “ _Tell Dad I'll do my best._ ”

“ _Severus,_ ” Harry corrected him.

“ _What?_ ”

“ _His name's not Dad. You should call him Severus,_ ” Harry said.

“ _Why do you call him Dad then?_ ”

“ _Because he's my dad. It means father,_ ” Harry explained awkwardly.

“ _You humans have confusing name rules. Though I like the sound of Severus more than Dad,_ ” Ladon said. “ _Okay. Tell Severus I'll do it_.”

He began winding himself along Harry's right arm, over his hand and onto his left hand.

“Remember, do not look at him,” Severus instructed.

Harry nodded, took a deep breath, and released it slowly, doing his best to let his thoughts drift away with it. He was still a lot slower at this when he had to stay aware of his surroundings, but he was getting quicker. His mind was pleasantly blank within a minute or two. Soon he was sitting still, staring at Severus who was just as unmoving, apart from scratching his head at one point.

After a few minutes Harry became aware of Severus saying his name.

“Lift the arm he's currently wrapped around,” Severus ordered.

Harry raised his right arm.

Severus smiled. “And what movement did I make?”

“You scratched your head.”

“Excellent. Again.”

They spent almost an hour this way. While Harry still had to hear his own name in order for sound to register for him, he never once failed to correctly raise whichever arm Ladon was coiled around.

“I think it safe to say that you do better with tactile stimulus than with aural, which is a relief,” Severus finally said.

“I'll say,” Harry said, stroking Ladon who was now curled in his lap.

“I think in a few days you'll be ready to do basic tasks whilst your mind is cleared,” Severus said thoughtfully.

“I have to _do_ things when I'm like this?” Harry asked.

“Of course,” Severus said, frowning. “Harry, this is something you should be able to just do in an instant, and then continue on with whatever you were doing beforehand. For some reason, you're unable to clear your mind without totally removing yourself from reality. I'm making this up as we go along.”

Harry gaped at him. “You are?”

“Did you think snakes were usually involved in teaching Occlumency?” Severus asked.

“Not now I don't,” Harry mumbled.

Severus snorted. “It's taking longer than I'd expected but you _are_ improving. I'll attempt Legilimency on you next week. I believe you'll be ready by then.”

Harry stood up. “If you say so. I'm off to bed.”

“Very well. You'll need to leave Ladon in his basket tonight. He needs to be properly introduced to Hedwig so that neither one attempts to hurt the other, and she'll be off hunting by now.”

Harry nodded grimly. “Got it.”

He walked up to bed, hoping that Hedwig and Ladon soon learnt to get along with each other better than Severus and Sirius had thus far.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ladon wasn't actually a snake, rather a serpent-like dragon from Greek mythology. As with many characters from Greek mythology, he had different parents depending on the source - but in at least one myth, he was the brother of the Nemean lion. Unfortunately for Ladon, like the Nemean lion, he too was killed by Heracles. But before that, he guarded the golden apples in the Garden of the Hesperides. And he's associated with the constellation Draco. :)


	7. In Which McGonagall Comes Over for a Most Thought-Provoking Visit

“You cannot be serious.”

Harry looked up from his breakfast guiltily when Severus walked into the kitchen. “I didn't think you'd be up yet.”

“Clearly,” Severus said, getting the coffee out. “Don't come crying to me when you become malnourished.”

Harry just grinned. “I won't. This would have eggs and milk in it, right? Perfectly healthy.”

“You spend far too much time with Draco if you think birthday cake is remotely healthy,” Severus said.

“I'm not as bad as he is!” Harry protested. “No one's that bad with sweets. Not even Dudley.”

“Just make sure you leave me a slice,” Severus said. He leaned against the bench as he waited for kettle to boil. “Why are you up so early in the first place?”

Harry's grin widened. “I got a proper night's sleep for once. Not a single nightmare.”

Severus smiled back. “Good to hear. What about the door?”

“Same as usual. I'm really, _really_ sick of staring at it,” Harry said, moodily scooping up a spoonful of icing. “Why can't I open it? I just want to know what's on the other side. It's gotta be good if my brain's this obsessed with it, right?”

“I'm not sure,” Severus said, pouring boiling water into his mug. He sat down at the table and frowned. “The longer you dream about this door, the more worried I'm becoming about it.”

“Really? I mean, it's not like it's a nightmare. It's just annoying,” said Harry.

Severus shook his head as he frowned down into his mug. “I've said all along that there's something wrong with this dream. It doesn't make any sense for you to be so fixated on something you've no memory of ever seeing. And the unchanging nature of the dreams is odd. You've been having them every night since you ceased taking the Dreamless Sleep. Something different should have appeared in them by now, or your dream self should have done something differently... Minerva's coming over tomorrow night, I'll ask her about it. If she doesn't know I'll try Albus.”

Harry's eyebrows shot up. “You're going to ask Dumbledore about my dreams? Is it that serious?”

Severus got up and fetched a plate and fork. “It might be,” he admitted, cutting himself a slice of cake. 

Harry watched him miserably. Severus eating cake for breakfast was probably not a good sign. “Is it – is there something wrong with my brain?”

Severus' head jerked up. “You're not crazy, Harry. There's probably a perfectly logical explanation for it.”

“Like what?”

“I don't know.”

Harry just nodded and popped the last of his slice of cake into his mouth. He wasn't surprised that Severus wasn't lying to make him feel better. It was one of the things he liked most about him. It just wasn't at all reassuring. 

After washing his dishes Harry got Ladon out of his basket and walked up to his bedroom, where he'd left Hedwig sleeping on his headboard. Sure enough, she was still there.

“ _This is Hedwig_ ,” Harry hissed quietly, holding his wrist up to his mouth. “ _She's my owl, so I don't want you trying to eat her when you get bigger. Actually, you shouldn't try to eat any owls, come to think of it_.”

Ladon's tongue flicked out a few times, then he tightened his hold on Harry's wrist. “ _That's a killer. They eat snakes. Why do you have a killer?_ ”

“ _She's my pet, just like you are. Only she takes my mail for me, too_ ,” Harry said. “ _And I've never seen her eat a snake before_.”

“ _That doesn't mean she hasn't_ ,” Ladon pointed out. 

“ _Er, yeah, good point... Hang on_ ,” Harry said. “Hedwig?”

Hedwig woke up and glared at him grumpily through half-open eyes. Harry hastily picked up his wand from his bedside table, ready to cast a Shield Charm if necessary.

“Hedwig, this is my snake, Ladon,” Harry said, holding Ladon up for Hedwig to get a better look.

Hedwig's eyes opened fully and immediately fixed on the snake. In response, Ladon coiled his tail painfully tight around Harry's wrist and reared up, puffing his neck out.

“ _It's looking at me, take me away, please take me away!_ ”

“ _It's okay, she won't try anything_ ,” Harry promised. “Hedwig, you cannot eat this snake. Ladon is mine. Understand? He's a pet.”

Hedwig stared unblinkingly at Ladon, who was hissing frantically, before she gave gave a low trill and her gaze softened. 

“Good girl,” Harry said. He grabbed an owl treat off his desk and fed it to her, patting her briefly. “He's not going to hurt you, either.”

Hedwig swallowed and trilled happily. Ladon had stopped hissing, though he was still coiled tightly and was flicking his tongue out agitatedly.

“ _She's not going to hurt you_ ,” Harry assured him. “ _I promise_.”

He slowly held his arm out to Hedwig. She was certainly paying attention, though she no longer had the dangerous glint in her eyes that she'd had earlier. Ladon continued to taste the air. 

“ _I hope you're right_ ,” he eventually said. “ _Because if that thing tries anything, I'm biting back_.”

“ _Okay_ ,” Harry said. “ _Want me to take you out to the garden?_ ”

“ _Yes, please_.”

Harry did so, watching Ladon slither off into the bushes as fast as he could, then went back into the kitchen, where Severus was finishing his coffee. “So, that anti-venom. It's good to use on owls, yeah?”

********

  
Harry spent Monday afternoon with his easel set up in the garden, which was now back to its usual chaotic order. Ladon was lying on the top of a lavender bush nearby, basking in the sun and asking an endless stream of questions as Harry drew him.

“ _You want to do what?_ ”

Harry had just been talking about how Severus used the plants in the garden for potions ingredients, and mentioned that he'd be wanting Ladon's skin.

Harry kicked himself mentally. “ _Only after you've shed it. You don't want it afterwards, do you?_ ” 

“ _Do you let him take your skin?_ ” Ladon asked suspiciously.

“ _No, but my skin isn't special. Yours is_ ,” Harry explained.

It was clearly the right thing to say, as Ladon slithered a little closer over the top of the bush. “ _Really?_ ”

“ _Yeah, boomslang skin can be used in heaps of potions_.”

“ _Well, okay then. But he has to wait until I've shed properly before he takes it!_ ”

“ _Of course_.”

The matter settled, Ladon went back to sunbaking. Harry had just started adding some detail into the background of his drawing when a sound at the gate made him jerk his head up. He'd drawn his wand and gotten into a defensive stance before he recognised the tall form of McGonagall striding up the garden path.

“I didn't mean to startle you, Harry,” she said as she reached him. 

“Hello, Professor,” Harry said.

McGonagall stared down at Ladon, who was eyeing her warily. “I see Severus got you your snake after all.”

“Yeah,” Harry said brightly. “Dad should be in the kitchen about now.”

“Duly noted,” McGonagall said, walking past him.

It was a few hours later that Harry decided he was done in the garden. After packing up his drawing supplies, he wound Ladon around his wrist and headed towards the door to the house. He stopped abruptly when he caught wind of the conversation inside.

“– think he's coping tolerably?”

“I hope so... I told you that his nightmares are abating, surely that must be a good sign,” Severus said slowly.

“I believe so,” McGonagall replied cautiously.

“Well, he seems to be recovering from those, at least, and he's able to walk past the local graveyard without experiencing further distress,” Severus said.

“As I said, that would be a good sign,” McGonagall said, “although...”

“Although neither of us has any experience dealing with a fifteen year old who's suffered what Harry just has?”

“Precisely.”

There was silence from inside. Harry briefly debated staying on the doorstop eavesdropping before he decided he couldn't stay there forever, or he'd soon be caught out.

He began talking to Ladon as he entered the house, pretending not to notice how Severus and McGonagall both jumped slightly at his entrance. He laid Ladon on the hearth and poured himself a glass of water before joining the adults in the lounge, where they were now talking about the difficulties Harry would face taking a venomous pet to Hogwarts. 

After dinner they all returned to the lounge room, though to Harry's surprise, the Scrabble box wasn't produced.

“Severus tells me you've been having odd, recurring dreams,” McGonagall stated.

“Er, yeah,” Harry said, “but it's not like they're nightmares.”

“Nonetheless, would you mind describing them to me?” McGonagall asked. 

Harry shrugged. “I'm stuck in this dark corridor. There's a door at the end that I want to get through, but I can't. That's it. I've never been there before – or, at least, I can't remember having been there. It doesn't look like anywhere familiar.”

“What does it look like?” McGonagall asked.

Harry shut his eyes as he tried to bring up a mental image of the corridor. “Er, it's got black tiles... No windows, and the only door is the one at the end... Although I guess there'd have to be one behind me, but I never look around to see. I'm always focused on the door at the end... The whole thing's lit by torches, but they're the only sort of decoration.” Harry opened his eyes. “Er, that's it.”

McGonagall had her lips pressed together tightly. “Harry, have you ever been to the Ministry of Magic?”

Harry frowned at her and glanced at Severus, who was looking just as confused as he was, before he answered. “Yeah, once. Last summer. Narcissa took Draco and me to visit Sirius in the holding cells.”

“I assume you went straight to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement?”

“Yeah, in a lift. It stopped at all the other floors on the way, though. Everyone was really busy because of the Quidditch World Cup. And the Triwizard Tournament, but we didn't know about that then,” Harry said.

“Minerva, what does this have to do with anything?” Severus broke in.

McGonagall silenced him with a look. “You never went below the Atrium, Harry?”

When Harry merely shook his head, Severus tried again. “Minerva -”

“Severus, have you spoken to Harry about the Department of Mysteries?” she asked sharply.

Severus jerked in surprise. “Of course not. Why?”

“Because he's just given us a detailed description of the corridor that leads to that department.”

“What?” Severus whispered, going pale.

Harry watched his reaction and felt a cold ball of dread settle in his stomach. “What's in the Department of Mysteries?” he asked. It couldn't be good, if Severus was this worried.

“Many things, most of which would not interest you,” McGonagall said slowly.

Harry noted that she said “most”, not “all”.

“Are you sure about this?” Severus asked McGonagall.

“Quite sure, though as to the how, I cannot say,” McGonagall replied.

“Maybe I'm a seer,” Harry joked lamely. 

“This is serious, Harry,” Severus snapped.

Harry glared at him, stung. “Yeah, I'm getting that, thanks. Why? What's the big deal? I mean, it's weird, but you both look really freaked out. Why?”

“Nonsense,” McGonagall said at once. “We're just puzzled, that's all.”

Harry gave her a disbelieving look and then turned to Severus, who met his gaze only briefly before he averted his eyes. 

“Dad?”

Severus ran a hand over his face. “We have reason to believe -”

“Severus!” McGonagall hissed.

“He already knows about the prophecy,” Severus said wearily. 

“Yes, yes, I know, you told him about that a while ago,” McGonagall sighed, “but there's a difference between telling him about its existence and... Well, the rest of it.”

“It concerns him, it's time he learnt the truth,” Severus said.

“Albus won't like it,” McGonagall warned him.

“Harry is my responsibility, not his,” Severus replied. “Besides, I agreed not to tell Harry straight away, I never agreed to keep it from him indefinitely.”

McGonagall stared at him for a long moment before nodding.

Harry bit his lip and turned to Severus. “Can I -”

“Draco and Miss – _Hermione_ – and that's it,” he said.

Harry nodded quickly.

“Very well. As I was saying, we have reason to believe that the Dark Lord is intent on securing the recording of the prophecy about you,” Severus said.

“There's a recording?” Harry asked.

Severus nodded. “Every prophecy is recorded and stored in the Department of Mysteries.”

“How do you record a prophecy?” Harry asked, picturing a magical video camera.

“Magic,” Severus said drily.

“Okay,” Harry said slowly. “Why does he need it?”

“We believe he wants to hear it for himself,” McGonagall said.

“He does not trust easily, and we suspect that he thinks I did not tell him the true contents of the prophecy,” Severus said.

“Well, if we know the prophecy, why don't we just destroy it before he gets to it?” Harry asked.

“Because prophecies can only be handled by those to whom they refer,” McGonagall explained.

“So just send me in to get it,” Harry said.

“Yes, that will work. We'll just get a teenager – one who is currently the target of a smear campaign by the Ministry – to waltz into said Ministry and pick up a guarded prophecy,” Severus said. “That's a fantastic idea, I don't know why we didn't think of it already.”

“Invisibility Cloak,” Harry said.

“Even if it were that easy, there is a danger to you. Severus has told you that the prophecy may not in fact refer to you at all,” McGonagall cautioned.

Harry nodded. “Yeah, it could've been about Neville, but Voldemort chose me.”

“Precisely. There are numerous enchantments around the prophecy recordings, including a jinx that inflicts temporary madness upon anyone who touches a prophecy of which they are not the subject,” McGonagall said.

Harry shivered. “So if it isn't about me after all...”

“Handling the prophecy would send you mad, yes. You would recover, but it's still not a risk we're willing to take,” said McGonagall.

“Good to know,” Harry said.

“Besides which, if You-Know-Who is fixated on this prophecy, he has less attention to devote to other schemes,” said McGonagall. “Schemes which you are not to be told about,” she added, fixing both Harry and Severus with a beady look.

They both nodded: Severus guiltily; Harry gratefully, pleased to have been told this much.

“So you can see why I'm so concerned to learn that you're dreaming about a location that You-Know-Who is thinking about,” said McGonagall.

“Because I've got some connection with Voldemort?” Harry guessed.

“Exactly,” said McGonagall.

“I'll increase the time I spend teaching you Occlumency, but we'll need to let the Headmaster know about this,” Severus added.

Harry nodded again. “How do you know so much about the prophecies, Professor? I mean, I always got the impression that your attitude towards Divination was similar to Dad's.”

McGonagall smiled. “Mostly, yes. I used to work at the Ministry, however, and its layout hasn't changed since my time there.”

“You worked for the Ministry?” Harry asked in surprise.

“Before Hogwarts, yes,” she said.

“Doing what?” he asked.

Severus got up to fetch another bottle of wine as McGonagall began telling Harry about her career at the Ministry. He tried to hide his surprise as he learned that she'd worked at the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

“You were an Auror?” he asked.

McGonagall shook her head. “I was a Hit Witch, though naturally we did liaise quite frequently with the Auror office. We helped them arrest the more dangerous criminals they were after.”

“How come you came back to Hogwarts?” Harry asked.

“The work grew too repetitive, hard as it may be to believe,” she said, accepting a refill from Severus with a nod. “We would receive our mission, track down the culprit and bring them in to the Ministry holding cells. We never helped the Aurors with the actual investigations, and I wanted something more mentally stimulating. Thus, teaching.”

Harry was by now staring at her, wide-eyed. “Why didn't you go for the Defence position, then?”

“Because it's cursed,” she said simply.

“What?” Harry cried, looking at Severus. “Why do you want a cursed position?”

“He thinks he could beat the curse,” McGonagall said.

“There's no curse,” Severus said.

“No one's lasted more than a year in that position in decades,” McGonagall argued.

“Because Albus keeps hiring people patently unfit for the role,” Severus said grouchily. “It would be far simpler for him to allow me to take over and then hire another Potions professor.”

“Can you _not_ take a cursed position, please?” Harry asked. “Anyway, you love Potions.”

“Yes, I love Potions. I do not love teaching it to incompetent adolescents who are more concerned with concealing their acne than with making sure they do not allow their cauldrons to explode.”

“We're not all that bad,” Harry protested.

“No, some of you are worse,” Severus said darkly.

“It's pointless arguing with him,” McGonagall told Harry wearily. “Scrabble?”

Harry shook his head. “No, thanks. I don't play chess against Narcissa and I don't play Scrabble against either of you two. Personal rule.”

“Scared you'll lose again?” Severus smirked.

“I know I'd lose again,” Harry said cheerfully. “Why would you even want me to play? There's no contest there.”

“We could put it off until you've gone to bed, if you like,” Severus offered.

“Nah, I'm going to go see if I can get Ladon used to Hedwig,” Harry said, bending down to pick up his snake. “Speaking of which, Professor, Draco wanted to come over and meet him, but the Fidelius Charm...”

“I spoke to both him and Miss Granger at the last Order meeting,” she told him.

“Oh. Thank you,” Harry said. “Dad, do you mind if I invite him over?”

Severus shook his head. “But finish your holiday homework first.”

“Yes, Dad. Goodnight,” Harry said.

As he was walking upstairs, he heard McGonagall say with some amusement, “How are you finding being a parent? I understand it's rather different from being a teacher.”

There was the clinking of glass and a splash of liquid before Severus replied. “You have no idea.”

When Harry walked into his room Ladon coiled more tightly around his wrist when he caught sight of Hedwig perched on the top of the wardrobe. Hedwig watched the snake for a few seconds before she resumed her grooming, readying herself for a hunt. Harry reached up to pat her briefly then put Ladon on top of his bed. Harry got changed into his pyjamas and slid into bed, where Ladon was curled around the headboard, keeping a wary eye on Hedwig.

Harry lay on his back, staring at the ceiling while his mind raced. The conversation with Severus and McGonagall had unnerved him more than he'd let on. The entire situation was getting more and more worrying to him. Either Harry had some connection with Voldemort, one which neither Severus nor McGonagall had any explanation for; or there was something weird going on with Harry's mind.

Harry rolled over and curled in on himself when Hedwig flew out of the room. The last time he'd been worried about his mental state had been when Riddle's diary had been controlling him. He frowned as he remembered how confused he'd been during that time, how he'd begun to fear that he was losing his mind. What was happening now wasn't the same – but could it somehow be related? Perhaps this connection was caused by the months Harry had been possessed by the diary. Maybe the diary had left Harry with some sort lingering curse, more subtle than the original possession had been. If only there was some way to find out.

Harry twisted around and sat up abruptly when the solution came to him. Ladon gave a startled hiss.

“ _Sorry_ ,” Harry hissed to Ladon, giving him a reassuring pat. 

Harry lay back down slowly, feeling a little happier. There was someone he could actually ask about this. Now that he had the kernel of a plan brewing in his mind, Harry settled down to clear his mind and go to sleep. He had an interesting morning ahead of him.

********

  
Severus frowned at Harry over his cup of coffee.

“The idea has merit,” he said finally.

“You think so?” Harry asked.

Severus nodded. “It's a better theory than I've been able to come up with.”

Harry beamed at the praise. “So, can I go see her? I'm assuming this isn't the sort of thing I should be putting in writing.”

“No, it very much isn't. Floo call first to make sure she's home. Instead of stepping into the fireplace, merely stick your head into the flames,” Severus said. “If she's there you can climb through, and Floo back when you're done. Don't worry about them overhearing – the Fidelius Charm will prevent them from hearing the name of our house.”

“Okay,” said Harry. “What's their house called?”

“The Burrow.”

Harry walked over to the fireplace. He picked up the pot of Floo powder and, feeling incredibly foolish, knelt down on the hearth and threw a handful of powder onto the stacked wood. When they erupted into green flames Harry said “the Burrow!” as clearly as he could, took a deep breath, and stuck his head into the flames.

Harry had thought travelling by Floo was unpleasant. Floo calling was worse. Instead of his entire body being spun around in the green fire, this time only his head revolved. Harry could feel his legs still kneeling on the hearth, his hands pressed to the stone on either side of the fire. He kept his eyes screwed shut and tried not to think of his head getting twisted off his body. Eventually, he felt his head begin to slow, and fighting off a powerful wave of nausea, he opened his eyes.

His head had ended up in a fireplace in a warm, sunny kitchen. Harry looked out through a sea of mismatched chair legs. Apart from a scrubbing brush cleaning a pan in the sink, there was no sign of movement.

“Hello?” Harry called.

There was no answer, save for the bird song coming in through the open window. Just as Harry was about to call out again, he heard footsteps hurrying in another room. A few seconds later Ron walked into the kitchen.

“Who is – oh. Potter,” he said.

“Ron,” Harry said, wishing it had been any of the other Weasleys who had walked in. “Is Ginny home?”

“Yeah,” said Ron.

“Can I come through?” asked Harry.

Ron jerked his head in a nod. “Yeah, okay. Wait here and I'll go get her.”

He walked back out of the room without another word, leaving Harry to clamber ungracefully through the fireplace. He was still brushing soot off himself when a door creaked open. He spun around to see Mrs Weasley walk in from outside. She stopped when she saw Harry.

“Hello, Mrs Weasley,” he said politely. “I'm Harry Potter. I'm just here to see Ginny. Ron's gone to get her.”

Mrs Weasley quickly recovered from seeing a stranger in her kitchen. “Nice to meet you dear. Did he offer you anything? Tea? Water?”

“I'm fine, thanks,” Harry said.

Just then Ginny came into the room, with Ron trailing behind her.

“Hello,” she said, “what are you doing here?”

“I came to talk to you about, er, something important,” Harry said, glancing warily at Ron.

Ginny caught the look. “We can go talk in my room. Come on.”

“Sing out if you want anything,” Mrs Weasley said.

Ron narrowed his eyes at Harry as he followed Ginny out of the kitchen. They went up a set of creaky stairs to the first floor, where Ginny walked into her bedroom. Harry looked around as he walked in. It was brightly lit, with an open window looking out onto the sunny garden. The walls were plastered with posters of the Weird Sisters and the Holyhead Captain, Gwenog Jones.

“You go for the Harpies too?” Harry asked.

“Yeah,” Ginny said, shutting the door. “But you didn't come here to talk about Quidditch.”

“No,” Harry said. He ran a hand through his hair and tried to figure out how to start.

“So?” Ginny prompted.

“I need you to promise you won't tell anyone about this,” Harry said.

“Sure,” Ginny said at once.

“I wanted to ask you about – about the diary,” Harry said.

Ginny turned wary. “What about it?”

“You remember what it was like, don't you? When you were -”

“I remember,” Ginny interrupted. “I don't think I'll ever forget.”

“Me neither,” said Harry.

Ginny sat down cross-legged on her bed. “You wanted to come talk about it?”

“Sort of,” said Harry. He gestured at the bed, and sat down when Ginny nodded. “I wanted to know if – if you ever experience anything that makes you think that it's happening again? Or, er, maybe that it never stopped?”

Ginny froze. “What?” she whispered.

“Do you ever get weird dreams or nightmares? I don't mean of being possessed – but dreams that seem like they're about him now?” Harry asked.

Ginny's eyes widened. “No. But you do?”

Harry nodded miserably.

Ginny swallowed. “I haven't had anything weird like that since I threw the diary away. Has this been happening to you all this time?”

“No. I, you know, stopped being possessed when I destroyed the diary. But since last year I've been getting these, I dunno, visions,” Harry said.

“Visions?” Ginny repeated, then shook her head. “The diary only made me black out and wake up in weird places, with no memory of how I'd got there.”

“Same. But we can't figure out why I'm getting these visions, and I thought maybe it had something to do with the diary, that it had left something in me that was only now showing up,” said Harry.

“I don't think it has anything to do with the diary,” Ginny said quietly. “I'll tell you if I get anything like that, but I don't think they're related. Have you asked Snape?”

“He doesn't know what it is. But I guess we can rule out the diary now,” Harry said.

“Sorry I couldn't help more,” Ginny said. “And I promise I won't tell anyone.”

“Thank you,” Harry said.

There was a beat of silence, then Ginny gave a small smile. “Feel like playing Quidditch while you're here? I'm sure you could borrow a broom off one of my brothers. Fred and George might join if they're around.”

Harry returned her smile. “Sounds great. I should probably Floo call Dad and tell him I'll be here for a while, before he starts to worry.”

Ginny giggled. “It's so weird to hear someone talking about Snape like that.”

“You'll get used to it,” Harry said.

“Yeah,” Ginny said thoughtfully, “I guess I will.”

********

  
A few days later Harry was in the middle of writing his Transfiguration essay in his room when Severus walked in with a large grey pebble floating in mid-air behind him.

“I'd re-word that paragraph if I were you,” Severus said from over Harry's shoulder.

“Okay,” he said, then twisted around. “You got a new toy, good for you!” he said when he caught sight of the floating pebble, laughing at his own joke.

“It's a Portkey,” Severus replied.

Harry's laughter died. “Dad -”

“Save it,” Severus interrupted. “I've made three others and hidden them around the house, but this one is to remain in your bedroom. Where do you want it?”

“I don't.”

“Harry,” Severus said warningly.

Harry scanned his room sulkily. “Near the Horntail's nest, I guess. Or do Portkeys work on non-living things?”

“They don't,” Severus said. 

He walked over to the chest of drawers and tucked the pebble under the sock nest. Satisfied it was hidden, he sat down on Harry's bed and stretched a hesitant hand out to Ladon, who was curled in a sunny patch. Harry watched curiously as Ladon's tongue flicked out a few times before he relaxed back onto the duvet cover.

“He's getting used to you,” Harry said happily. Ladon had shown an unwillingness to go near any human who didn't speak Parseltongue, no matter how many times Harry had told him Severus wouldn't hurt him.

Severus smiled faintly at the snake then folded his hands into his lap. “This Portkey will take you to Hogwarts. Specifically, the pumpkin patch behind Hagrid's cabin.”

Harry nodded, resigned to the scheme. “Why there?”

“The Headmaster had to remove and manipulate a number of protective enchantments to allow the Portkey access to the grounds. The castle itself has even more so it was easier to clear a landing place outside, but I didn't want you to land somewhere exposed, and you're familiar with the cabin,” Severus explained. 

Harry nodded again. “And the others?”

“They're all pebbles similar to this one,” Severus began. “There's one on the windowsill in the bathroom that will take you to Grimmauld Place. There's another in the pantry on top of an empty shortbread tin that will take you to Minerva's house in the Highlands. The last one is on top of the locked cabinet in the barn and will take you to Malfoy Manor.”

“I still don't like this,” Harry said shortly.

Severus sighed. “Harry, it's for your own safety. Surely you see that.”

“And what about yours?”

“Unless I'm already dead, you'll be able to come back here with a number of Order members to save me,” Severus said.

Harry stared at him. “What exactly do you think is going to happen?”

Severus spread his hands. “Anything. You're the subject of a prophecy regarding the Dark Lord's demise, and I betrayed him. Apart from the Headmaster, I can't think of two bigger targets.”

“Then why are we all the way out in the middle of nowhere? Shouldn't we be at Grimmauld Place, or at Hogwarts or something? Somewhere well protected, where there are heaps of other people around to help if we need it?” Harry asked.

“We're well protected here, believe me,” Severus said.

“By what, the Fidelius Charm? Sorry if I think there might be a giant gaping flaw in _that_ defence,” Harry snapped, feeling a minute sense of relief at finally getting that off his chest.

Severus frowned. “I trust Minerva completely.”

“Yeah, and my parents -”

“Were betrayed by a coward,” Severus finished angrily. “Minerva is made of far sterner stuff. There's also the fact that our house is protected by far more than that single charm. Make no mistake, I learn from the past.”

“If you say so,” Harry said unhappily.

“Every precaution has been taken,” Severus said. “However, I want your promise that you will use one of these Portkeys if you think I have been injured, killed, kidnapped, or otherwise harmed; you fear for your own safety but cannot find or reach me; you see a stranger on our property and I have not warned you of their arrival in advance; you see someone who you recognise as a Death Eater, or believe to be allied with them; or I am acting oddly and you suspect I may be under the Imperius Curse or a Polyjuiced imposter.”

Harry tried to find a loop hole within that list, and scowled when he didn't. “Fine, I promise,” he said. 

Severus inclined his head. “Thank you.”

“I still hate this,” Harry said.

“I know. If it makes you feel better, it's illegal to make Portkeys without Ministry approval, so you'd be angering the Ministry if you ever use one of them,” Severus offered.

Harry smiled unwillingly. “That does help, actually.”

Severus smirked. “I thought it might. So will this: the Headmaster has owled me the academic results of all the other Slytherins if you'd like to read it.”

Harry nodded. “Okay.”

Severus pulled a piece of parchment from within his robes. “I never showed you this.”

“Of course not,” Harry agreed, taking the parchment.

“Do you know how the marking system for OWLs and NEWTs works?” Severus asked.

“Is it different?”

Severus nodded. “There are three passing grades – Outstanding, Exceeds Expectations and Acceptable – and three failing grades – Poor, Dreadful and Troll.”

Harry snorted. “Troll? That's a grade?”

“Yes. Make sure you never receive one.”

Harry nodded and unrolled the parchment eagerly, barely noticing when Severus walked out of his room. He was too busy scanning the list of names for his year level. Unsurprisingly, Greg and Vince were on the verge of failing nearly all their classes, except for Divination and Care of Magical Creatures. Severus had already made a note next to both of their names: “may be possible to get them through these classes, anything else is a lost cause”. Harry let out a guilty giggle and moved on.

He was pleased to see that all of the rest of his friends were passing easily enough, though like Harry, most of them were struggling in History of Magic. He had the best marks in both Potions and Defence, but Tracey and Theo were the best at everything else, and Draco was better at both Charms and Astronomy than Harry was. He had a feeling Hermione would have beaten them all, but Severus only had the Slytherin marks.

His face fell when he started looking up the other members of the Quidditch team. Adrian and Scarlett were doing well, but Miles was close to failing most of his classes. It shouldn't have surprised Harry; he remembered when Miles had been made to stay at Hogwarts over Christmas because his parents wanted him to study. Still, he was annoyed: unless Severus had changed his attitude rather dramatically, they'd be looking for a new Keeper this year. 

After giving it some thought, though, Harry was in a much better mood by the time he went to give the list back to Severus. A new Keeper would probably be good for the team, and Harry didn't particularly like Miles that much. 

Far more importantly, if he decided to mention the existence of the list to her, there wasn't much that Pansy wouldn't do for Harry in order to get her hands on it.


	8. In Which Draco Meets Ladon

A week after his birthday, Harry stumbled out of bed at lunch time, tired but happy. He carried Ladon to the door and let him outside to sit in the sun, then made himself a large mug of coffee. He drank it quickly, standing up in the kitchen, then walked out to the barn to talk to Severus, who was bent over a simmering cauldron of what looked like yet more anti-venom.

“So you didn't die through the night,” Severus drawled when he heard the door creak open.

Harry gave a huge yawn and settled himself on a stool. “I stayed up till three mapping the stars for my Astronomy homework. Ladon kept asking questions – he even wrapped himself around my telescope at one point, wanting to look through it – so it took twice as long as it should have. Turns out it's really hard to explain what a star or a planet is to a baby snake.”

Severus snorted. “You spoil him.”

“I know,” Harry said complacently. He kicked his feet a bit and hoped the caffeine would kick in soon. “Anyway, that's the last of my homework done, so can I invite Draco over now?”

Severus nodded without raising his head from his cauldron.

“Thanks,” Harry said, then hesitated before adding, “and, er, I was hoping I could see Sirius again. We haven't spoken since I found out – er, since I stayed at Grimmauld Place. But he and Remus gave me that motorbike helmet for my birthday and I was thinking maybe he could take me for a ride around here?”

“Fine. As long as he's aware that this is a Muggle area and he therefore cannot take you flying like he did in Hogsmeade,” Severus said.

“Of course. Wait, you know about that?”

Harry could see Severus' smirk through the hair that was falling in his face. “The entire school knew by the end of the day. You weren't exactly unobtrusive, and when you landed you joined Hermione in her very public argument with Skeeter.”

“Oh, right,” Harry said sheepishly. “So, anytime okay with you?”

“Draco may Floo over anytime he wants, apart from this afternoon, as we're going to work on your Occlumency once you've properly woken up. Tell Black he may come over next week.”

“Okay. Can I help with your brewing?” Harry asked.

Severus looked at him in disbelief as he gave another gigantic yawn. “What, so that you can fall asleep face down in a cauldron? No, you may not. I'll be done here long before you wake up properly. If you want to do something useful you can make a salad for lunch.”

By the time they finished lunch, Harry was wide awake and dreading his Occlumency lesson. McGonagall's revelation about the door dreams had spurred Severus into increasing the rate at which Harry improved. He was now able to carry out simple conversations and actions while his mind was cleared, though more complex thought was something that eluded him. He was happy with his progress, as was Severus, but the lessons always left him exhausted. 

Today was no exception. Two hours later Harry was lying on the couch staring blankly up at the ceiling. He idly regretted that he'd finished off the last of his birthday cake, as it would have been just the thing to perk him up right now. Then again, he didn't think he had the energy to walk over to the kitchen anyhow.

“I think tomorrow I'll see if you're capable of reading whilst clearing your mind,” Severus mused.

“Do I have to?” Harry groaned. 

“Yes,” Severus said sharply.

“Can't I just skip to the mind barrier thing? I mean, clearing my mind isn't going to help if someone tries Legilimency on me, is it?” Harry asked hopefully.

“It will, actually,” Severus corrected him. “Like Occlumency, Legilimency can come in many different forms. If someone is attempting to merely ascertain what you're consciously thinking of, having the ability to clear your mind would prevent that.”

Harry acknowledged the point with a grimace. “Right, but what if someone tries to properly break in? Like when you wanted to see that vision of Voldemort for yourself? This would be useless.”

“That's only partially true. An unskilled Legilimens may very well be thwarted by entering a blank mind. In any case, having the ability to clear your mind will help strengthen your mental discipline, which will aid you in constructing a mental barrier when we reach that point,” Severus said, then lost his classroom voice. “I would have thought you'd be encouraged by the fact that you didn't dream about that corridor last night.”

“I am, really,” Harry said, then shut his eyes. “I just don't understand any of the theory.”

“I know. Which is why you just need to trust that what I am telling you to do is the best course of action.”

If he'd had the energy, Harry would've rolled his eyes at that. Instead, he had to content himself with giving another groan before he dozed off.

********

  
Draco arrived the next morning, stepping lightly out of the fireplace in a blaze of green flames. Harry couldn't help but gape at him from the kitchen, where he was waiting for the kettle to boil.

“How do you do that?” he asked.

Draco brushed some soot off his shoulders. “Do what?”

“Not fall on your arse when you get out of the Floo,” Harry said.

Draco laughed. “It's quite simple when one isn't an uncoordinated prat.”

“Is that right? Well then, you'll have no problems climbing the oak tree,” Harry said.

Draco looked down at his robes, which were now soot-free and impeccable as usual. “I don't climb trees.”

“Well, Ladon does, and you're the one who wants to meet him,” Harry told him. He turned the kettle off and took Draco's hand. “Come on.”

He pulled Draco outside, where he looked around curiously.

“This isn't what I was expecting.”

“I told you we live in a farm house. We just have Screechsnap instead of sheep,” Harry said, pulling Draco around a pot filled with the noisy plant. “Although this _is_ Wales, so there are plenty of sheep in the nearby fields if that's what you're into.”

“You know it's not,” Draco said in a low voice.

“Hmm, yeah, I do,” Harry said smugly. He stopped abruptly and pulled Draco into his arms, kissing him soundly.

“What if Snape sees us?” Draco asked once they parted.

Harry shrugged. “He wouldn't care. And anyway, he's busy in the barn brewing more anti-venom. He wants me to milk Ladon's venom later on so that he can tailor this batch specifically to boomslang venom. So far he's just been making general stuff.”

“Ladon hasn't bitten you, has he?” Draco asked worriedly. 

Harry laughed. “Nah, he loves me. No one else is going to spend hours answering his endless questions. Which reminds me... He, er, might call you my mate.”

Draco looked at him nonplussed. “So? We are mates. Along with Hermione I'm your _best_ mate.”

Harry blushed. “No, er, he thinks we're _mates_. Like making babies mates.”

“Why the fuck does he think that?”

“How else would I explain the idea of a boyfriend to a baby snake?” Harry asked.

Draco stared at him. “It's a good thing you taught me to speak Parseltongue. I shudder to think what sort of ideas you're putting into this poor snake's head,” he said finally.

“Git,” Harry said, rolling his eyes then scanning the branches of the oak tree. “ _Ladon? You here?_ ”

“ _On my usual branch_ ,” came the faint reply.

Harry grinned at Draco. “Come on, then.”

Draco looked up unhappily. “Do I have to?”

“Pretty much, yeah. He likes being up high, and the more comfortable he is when he meets you, the less likely it is that he'll be too nervous to speak to you. He's very shy – he only let Dad pat him for the first time last night,” Harry explained.

“Fine,” Draco huffed.

“It'll be fun,” Harry said encouragingly. “You have climbed trees before, yeah?”

“Of course I have. Just not for quite a few years.”

“Well, just follow me. I've done this a lot in the past few days.”

A few minutes later Harry was sitting on his usual branch with his back against the trunk. Draco climbed up after him, and awkwardly sat on the branch in front of him, leaning stiffly against Harry's chest.

“ _Can you come down, Ladon?_ ” Harry called, then wrapped an arm around Draco's waist. “Just relax, okay? He's not going to bite you, and you won't fall out of the tree.”

“You cannot possibly guarantee either of those statements is true,” Draco said quietly.

Harry pressed a kiss to the back of his neck, then pointed at a branch above them. “There he is. _Ladon, this is Draco. Remember I told you about him?_ ”

“ _Pleased to meet you_ ,” Draco said politely.

Ladon regarded him shyly, with only his head and a small portion of his neck visible in the foliage. “ _Hello_ ,” he said to Draco, then to Harry, “ _This is your mate?_ ”

“ _Boyfriend, remember?_ ”

Ladon retreated slightly into the leaves. “ _Sorry, yes, I forgot._ ”

“ _I've been called worse_ ,” Draco said.

“ _He has_ ,” Harry agreed.

Ladon edged out of the foliage again and slithered halfway down his branch. “ _What should I call him, Harry? Draco or Boyfriend? Your human names are too confusing_.”

Harry couldn't help smirking at Draco. “ _Why don't you explain about names?_ ”

“ _Watch and learn, Potter._ ”

An hour or so later, Ladon had warmed to Draco enough to lie on the branch in front of him, with the end of his tail resting on Draco's leg. There was a crunching sound on the ground, and all three of them looked down to see Severus standing beneath the tree. 

“Hello, Draco. I see you've been dragged into Harry's simian adventures,” he said in amusement.

“Yes, sir.”

“Lunch will be ready in ten minutes. Bring Ladon in with you, I want to show you how to milk him,” Severus said.

“Okay,” Harry said.

Severus nodded and walked back up to the house.

“ _Feel like an egg, Ladon?_ ” Harry asked. 

“ _Yes, please_.”

“ _Come on, then_ ,” Harry said, holding out his arm. 

Ladon slithered over Draco's leg and around his waist to reach Harry.

Draco wriggled. “ _Tickles_.”

“ _Sorry_ ,” Ladon said, quickly winding himself around Harry's wrist.

“ _It's alright_ ,” Draco said. 

He climbed down out of the tree with Harry following. 

“Is this all you do now? Climb trees to talk to Ladon?” Draco asked once they were back on solid ground.

Harry shook his head. “Not every day, no. He goes up there every day, but if I'm outside drawing he'll usually come and sit near me. And sometimes he'll come over to see what Dad and I are doing when we garden. He likes gardens, you see, so the first time he saw us weeding he got worried that we were destroying the entire thing.”

Draco laughed. “I wonder what sort of things other pets think about what their owners do.”

Harry laughed as well. “Pretty sure your dad's peacocks think something along the lines of 'kill, kill, kill'.”

“So far they've only tried to maim,” Draco said. “Though I'm fairly certain most of our elves would happily kill the lot of them if they could. Dobby's asked Mother more than once if he could release them into the wild, but she's refusing.”

Harry pushed open the front door. “How come? I thought she didn't like them that much?”

“She doesn't, really, she just thinks they're pretty – from a safe distance, of course. There's also the fact that with Hermione staying with us, Crookshanks spends most of his time chasing them, and Mother doesn't want to take away his favourite game,” Draco explained.

“Do not talk about those dreadful birds in my house unless you are discussing their demise,” Severus called from the kitchen.

“Sorry, sir,” Draco said.

“Dad's just upset because he didn't believe me when I said they'd all gone feral, until we got attacked by some,” Harry stage-whispered.

“They're a menace and Narcissa should get rid of the lot of them,” Severus said grumpily.

Harry set Ladon down on the hearth and went to get an egg out of the fridge. “I don't know, they're kind of a good defence, aren't they? Like guard dogs, only no one would ever expect them. _You_ didn't believe me, and you're as paranoid as I am.”

“Is that even possible?” Draco asked, watching as Harry laid the egg on the hearth.

“Ha ha,” Harry said sarcastically, coming back into the kitchen to set the table. “Stop gawking at Ladon and come eat.”

Draco slowly sank down onto a chair. “I've never seen a snake eat before. He's so fast.”

“You get used to it,” Harry said. 

“I suppose so,” Draco said. His eyes lit up when Harry put a bottle of Coke on the table. “I keep seeing this in movies!”

“Help yourself,” Harry said, putting glasses on the table. He regretted his words when he saw Draco take an experimental sip, then quickly drain his glass and refill it. “I've introduced Draco to Muggle soft drinks. Narcissa's going to kill me,” he whispered to Severus.

“She has to come through me,” Severus said quietly, handing him two bowls of chicken stir fry. 

Harry couldn't help giving Severus a speculative look as they joined Draco at the table. A fight between Severus and Narcissa would be pretty spectacular.

“Stop trying to figure out which of us would win a duel, you ungrateful brat,” Severus said.

When Draco looked around in confusion, Harry pointed at his meal. “Eat up. Dad makes the best stir fry.”

“Nice recovery,” Severus murmured in amusement. 

“This is good. I didn't know you could cook, sir,” Draco said in surprise.

Severus raised an eyebrow. “I teach Potions for a living and you find it hard to believe that I know how to cook?”

“Being good at Potions doesn't necessarily mean one can cook,” Draco said.

Harry narrowed his eyes at his defensive tone. “You don't know how to cook!”

“Of course I know how to cook,” Draco scoffed.

“Yeah? When have you ever cooked? You have a bunch of house-elves in your kitchen at home!”

“I – I used to help in the kitchen. I'd help the elves bake,” Draco said. 

“Used to?” Harry asked.

“Oh, alright. When I was little I used to sneak into the kitchen when I knew the elves were baking so I could lick the bowl when they were done,” Draco admitted.

“That's not cooking,” Harry began, making Draco's face fall. He perked up again when Harry smiled. “But it is really cute.”

Severus sighed, Summoned a book from the lounge room, and proceeded to read that for the rest of the meal. Draco eyed him nervously once or twice, but quickly became drawn into a conversation about the merits of the Harpies versus the Falcons. 

“Wait, wait, you only like Kingsley because he goes for the same team you do?” Harry asked, spearing the last piece of corn in his bowl.

“Of course not, though it does show good judgement,” said Draco. “The fact that he likes Mother proves it's not a fluke.”

“Well, I'm glad you like him. He seems like he's going to be sticking around for a while,” Harry said.

“He does, doesn't he,” said Draco thoughtfully. “What do you think of him, sir?”

Severus looked up in surprise. “You want my opinion?”

“Yes, sir.”

Severus lay his book down flat. “He's intelligent and competent. We usually agree with each other during Order meetings, so I agree that he has good judgement.”

“You like him,” Harry said, pleased.

“He's decent company,” Severus allowed. “To get to your real question, Draco, I cannot say whether his relationship with your mother will last. What I can say, however, is that given the transformation Narcissa has gone through since Lucius' incarceration, whoever she ends up with is going to need great strength of character to keep up with her.”

Draco grinned. “You noticed that too?”

Severus snorted. “She's always been formidable. But in the last year alone she's shown no qualms about facing off against Dumbledore _or_ the Ministry, and is now fighting against the Dark Lord. Yes, I've noticed.”

“I didn't know you knew her that well,” Harry said.

Severus shrugged. “We were at school together for three years, but after that I only saw her rarely, mostly through Lucius – though I have, of course, had to write to your mother when you have been given detention at Hogwarts,” he said to Draco, then turned back to Harry. “It wasn't until your godfather broke out of Azkaban that we renewed our acquaintance properly.”

Harry frowned. “What's Sirius got to do with anything?”

“Because you stayed here for a month. Narcissa wrote to me afterwards, thanking me for taking care of you, and I took the opportunity to question her about some of the details you'd let slip about your life with the Dursleys,” Severus explained.

Harry blinked at him. He'd known that Narcissa had written to tell Severus about the nightmare of Voldemort that Harry had had at Malfoy Manor, but he'd had no idea that they'd already been writing to each other. He looked at Draco, who looked just as bemused as he did. 

“We'd formed a regular correspondence by the time she arrived at Hogwarts to demand that the Headmaster get Harry out of the Triwizard Tournament. After that we began to meet up in person occasionally,” Severus concluded.

Draco gasped. “You don't – you didn't – you and Mother – did you?”

Severus stared at him before turning to Harry. “Translation?”

“Er, I think he's trying to ask if you and Narcissa, er, you know...” Harry muttered. Draco nodded. 

Severus' frown deepened before it dawned on him. “No, we didn't. We're friends, Draco, nothing more.”

“Well, you never know, not with the year she had before Kingsley,” Draco said defensively. “And I've nothing against you personally, sir. It would just be weird since you've adopted Harry.”

“I'll say,” Harry agreed.

“I have a lot of respect and affection for Narcissa, but she is very much not my type,” Severus said firmly.

“What is your type?” Draco asked.

“Redheads,” Harry said.

“None of your business,” Severus said loudly. “Harry, fetch Ladon. Draco, you may stay if you wish to learn how to milk a snake for its venom. It seems simple enough, especially for a Parselmouth.”

“You've never done it before?” asked Harry.

Severus shook his head. “I've always just bought any venom I needed. But I don't foresee any problems.”

“ _Ladon, we need your help again_ ,” Harry said.

“ _Of course_ ,” Ladon said drowsily.

Harry picked the snake up, careful to avoid touching the visible bump of the egg halfway down Ladon's neck. Severus led them out to the barn, where there was a cauldron of anti-venom bubbling gently over a low flame. He ignored it, turning instead to the wall of equipment.

Draco let out a low whistle as he looked around the barn. “This is going to give you a massive advantage in Potions class, Harry.”

“More so than living with the teacher?” Harry asked drily, setting Ladon down on the bench.

“Well, no, but that doesn't change the fact that you have your own Potions laboratory,” Draco said. 

Harry laughed. “I'm sure your mum would install one at the Manor if you asked her.”

“Yes, and then Hermione and Theo would take over that as well as the library,” Draco grumbled. “This must be what having siblings is like. I'm so glad I'm an only child, because those two are driving me crazy right now.”

Harry took his hand. “You can forget about them for this afternoon, at least.”

“I plan to,” Draco said, stroking Ladon.

Severus walked over to the bench and placed a small glass jar on the empty workspace. “Harry, I'll need you to explain to Ladon what is required of him.”

“Okay,” Harry nodded.

Severus pulled out a sheet of latex and fastened it over the top of the jar. “All he needs to do is pierce it with his fangs and expel as much of his venom as he can. If he is unable to do so himself, you may need to apply pressure to his venom pouches.”

Harry nodded again and relayed the instructions to Ladon.

“ _I can do that_ ,” he said determinedly.

He slithered over to the jar and raised his head up off the bench to get a better look at the top of it. He struck without warning, and even though Harry knew how fast Ladon was, he was still a blur as he bit down onto the latex. With his jaws opened almost 180 degrees, a slow but steady stream of venom ran out of the two fangs he had embedded in the latex. There was silence as the three humans all crowded closer to watch the process, until eventually the venom dribbled to a stop.

Ladon wriggled his body for a few seconds before stilling and calling out in a desperate, muffled voice, “ _Help me, Harry. I'm stuck_.”

“ _Okay, hang on_ ,” Harry said quickly.

He gently grasped Ladon behind his jaw and unhooked him from the latex.

“ _Thank you_ ,” Ladon said, snapping his mouth shut and lying on the bench. “ _Is that enough venom?_ ”

“He wants to know if that's enough venom,” Harry told Severus.

He picked up the jar and held it up to the light. “This will be sufficient for one batch of anti-venom. You'll need to milk him again for the next batch.”

“Just how much do you plan on making?” Harry asked, letting Ladon coil himself around his fingers.

“Oh, I shan't be making anymore after today. Ladon is your pet and thus your responsibility,” Severus replied. 

Draco started laughing. “You're getting extra homework.”

“Says the boy who not so long ago was bemoaning the fact that Harry is going to have such an advantage in Potions this year, and I have it on good authority that anti-venoms will be on the OWLs,” Severus said blandly.

Draco stopped laughing. “What?”

“Do you still need us?” Harry asked Severus. 

“You may go. Thank Ladon for his help,” Severus said, beginning to take the latex off the jar.

“Come on,” Harry said, tugging Draco out of the barn. Outside, he knelt down and let Ladon slide off his hand onto the gravel path. “ _Thanks for your help today. Dad's very happy with you_.”

“ _I'm glad. Though it was an odd request. What does Severus need my venom for?_ ”

“ _To make anti-venom. In case you ever bite anyone, they can drink that and get better_ ,” Harry said.

“ _But I'm not going to bite anyone_ ,” Ladon said, drawing his tail in closer. “ _Not unless you ask me to, that is._ ”

“ _It's just a precaution_ ,” Harry said. “ _You're not sore are you, from getting stuck?_ ”

“ _No, but I think I'll go have a nap now_ ,” Ladon said. 

“ _Nice meeting you_ ,” Draco said.

“ _Likewise_ ," Ladon said, then slithered off the path into the garden.

“What do you want to do now?” Draco asked. “I don't have to be home until dinner.”

“Want to come see my room?” Harry suggested.

“Sure,” Draco agreed readily.

He followed Harry to his room and stopped dead when they entered. “Holy fuck, Harry.”

“What?” Harry asked, spinning around in alarm.

Draco gestured at the walls. “Did you paint all this yourself?”

“Oh, that. Yeah,” Harry said.

“It's brilliant,” Draco said, now tracking the Snitch's progress around the walls.

“Thanks,” Harry said, sitting on his bed. “I mean, I know it's not as fancy as your room, and no where near as big, but -”

“Harry, my room's bigger than our dorm and was decorated by professionals,” Draco said, tearing his eyes away from the Snitch. “You did all this yourself, and you did a damn good job, too. I'm very impressed.”

“Thanks,” Harry said again, more confidently this time.

“Mmm, very impressed,” Draco repeated. He walked over to Harry and straddled him. “I think I should show you how impressed I am.”

Harry ran his arms around Draco's waist. “If you insist.”

“Oh, I insist,” Draco murmured, pushing Harry onto his back and leaning down.

********

  
After dinner Harry took Ladon into the lounge room and sat on the couch nervously, waiting for Severus to join him. Hedwig was perched on the back of an armchair, cleaning her wings. She stopped and gazed at Ladon, but seemed less inclined to attack him than she had in the past. Or at least, Harry hoped she was.

“ _You smell of fear_ ,” Ladon said, twining himself around Harry's fingers in agitation.

“ _No, I don't_ ,” Harry said.

“ _Yes, you do_ ,” Ladon said, flicking his tongue out pointedly. “ _What is it?_ ”

Harry sighed. “ _Occlumency. Again._ ”

Ladon wound his way up Harry's right arm and along his shoulder to rest around the back of his neck. “ _I thought you were getting better at that_.”

“ _I am_ ,” Harry said, watching as Ladon lay his head down over Harry's shoulder onto his chest. “ _It's just that Dad's going to use Legilimency on me tonight, properly this time, and it's supposed to hurt._ ”

“ _Severus wouldn't hurt you_ ,” Ladon said.

“ _Not intentionally, no, but I don't think he has a choice in this_ ,” Harry said, turning his head to watch Severus readying a tea tray in the kitchen.

Ladon stretched forward and around Harry's head to get his own view. Over on the chair, Hedwig turned her head from Ladon to Severus as well. Severus picked up the tray and walked into the lounge room, stopping when he saw them staring at him. 

“Stop looking at me like that. Both – all of you,” he said, stepping forward again. “Harry, how did you even manage to get Hedwig to imitate you?”

Harry reached up and stroked Ladon until he relaxed down over his shoulder again, and smiled over at Hedwig. “She's smart, you know that.” 

Hedwig gave a pleased little chirp and resumed her grooming. 

Severus set the tray on the coffee table and sat down on the other end of the couch. “Clear your mind,” he said.

Harry swallowed and shut his eyes. A few seconds later they fluttered open again and he stared at Severus calmly. 

“Good. Now, I'm going to perform Legilimency on you twice. Initially, I will only skim your mind, and see what I can find that way,” Severus said slowly. 

“Okay.”

Severus leaned forward slightly and raised his wand. “ _Legilimens_.”

Harry waited expectantly, but nothing happened apart from Severus' stare growing a little more intent than it had been.

Abruptly, he sat back and smiled. “You may stop now,” he said.

Harry shook his head and blinked hard. Snapping out of that state was like having his ears pop: everything became a little sharper, a little clearer. “You didn't do anything,” he said in confusion.

“No, I didn't _find_ anything,” Severus corrected him. “I performed Legilimency and encountered nothing but a perfectly blank mind.”

“Oh. Yay me,” Harry said.

“Indeed,” Severus said, leaning over to pick up his tea. 

Harry followed suit. “So now what?”

“Now we shall repeat ourselves, only this time, I shall deliberately delve beyond the superficial surface of your mind, looking for a specific memory,” Severus said, sipping his tea.

Harry gulped his own tea nervously. “Which one?”

“Telling you would defeat the purpose of this exercise,” Severus said. “You would automatically think of the memory, bringing it to the surface of your mind. I want you to know what it feels like when someone performs Legilimency upon you in order to find specific knowledge.”

Harry took another large swallow of tea, set his cup down on the table and cleared his mind again. “Let's do it.”

Severus put his own cup down and leaned forward. “ _Legilimens_.”

Severus' face flickered and faded from Harry's view, replaced with memories that flashed past, almost too quickly to make sense of... Harry was in the Room of Requirement, suggesting Hermione ask to get re-sorted. “The hat did think about putting me in Ravenclaw,” she mused... Harry was standing in front of Sirius in the Ministry holding cells “I expected you to be a Gryffindor,” Sirius said... Harry was in his dorm at Hogwarts, trying to reassure Draco that he was nothing like his father. “I look exactly like my dad, but we're not the same person. We didn't even get sorted into the same house!”

It was the first night Harry had spent at Hogwarts. The Sorting was over, and the Bloody Baron was giving the Slytherin first years a lecture on the honour of being Sorted into Slytherin, and the high standard he expected them to maintain...

The next jump was fairly short. Harry was watching as one by one the other first years were called up... Hermione and Neville went to Gryffindor... Draco went to Slytherin, leaving Harry alone with strangers... Now it was his turn, walking past hundreds of older students gawking at him... He turned away from them and saw Severus staring at him with dislike... Then the Sorting Hat was on his head trying to place him.

Harry had the disconcerting experience of hearing an echo of the thoughts of his younger self. Slytherin or Gryffindor, Slytherin or Gryffindor, chanted his little boy's voice.

“Well, yes, that is where I was going with this...” the Hat replied. “You'd do well in either house, it's true. Hmm. Brave as you are, I do think you'd thrive in Slytherin...Yes, rare as that is, you'd better be a snake in that case... SLYTHERIN!”

Younger Harry blinked in the light as the Hat was taken off his head, then the scene dissolved, and fifteen year old Harry was left blinking at Severus in their lounge room. He rubbed his head, which was aching, and lowered his hand to find Severus holding out a bottle of pain reliever.

“Thanks,” Harry said, downing it in one. “So that's the difference between the two types of Legilimency, huh?”

Severus nodded. “As you can tell, clearing your mind is fine for preventing someone from viewing your immediate thoughts and feelings, but useless for keeping out a Legilimens if they're determined enough.”

“Yeah. Which is what you use the barrier thing for, right?”

“Yes. I shan't begin teaching you how to create one until we're back at Hogwarts – I want you to keep practising clearing your mind for now. But I want you to think about what you might want to use for your barrier.”

“What sorts of things can I use?” Harry asked.

“It's up to you; the limit is literally your own imagination,” Severus began. “Brick or stone walls are probably the most common, followed by moats, whether they be of lava or poison or just plain old water. You could choose a wall of fire or lightning... Some people devise a maze, though given your struggles with Occlumency thus far I wouldn't recommend that. Then there are the non-physical means – you might envision a thick fog, or simply imagine running away. It just has to be a means by which you keep a Legilimens from your thoughts.”

Harry ran a hand through his hair, feeling rather overwhelmed. “What's yours?”

“A hedge of poisonous thorns,” Severus said.

Harry nodded; that sounded pretty effective. “Does it matter which type I choose?”

“Each form is equally effective. All that matters is that it gives you a sense of safety and comfort.”

“Okay,” Harry said. “Is that all for tonight's lesson?”

“Yes. Make sure you clear your mind before sleep, though.”

Harry nodded and reached up to stroke Ladon. “ _I'm fine now. You can relax_.”

“ _Good_ ,” Ladon replied, relaxing his tail, which was coiled around Harry's upper arm.

“I was right, wasn't I?” Harry asked Severus. “You really didn't like me at first.”

“Not at first, no. All I could see was your – was James,” Severus admitted.

“Until you got a look at my eyes?” Harry asked.

“Until I got to know you,” Severus said quietly.

“Oh,” Harry said, pleased.

Severus' lips quirked up. “You never told me the Sorting Hat thought about putting you in Gryffindor.”

“Is that the memory you were after?” Harry asked.

“I was curious,” Severus said. “I had suspected it may have also considered Gryffindor.”

“Not the other houses?”

“Given the frequency with which you fall asleep in History of Magic? No,” Severus shot back.

Harry smirked. “Okay, fair enough. What'd the Sorting Hat say to you?”

“It seemed to be considering all four houses,” Severus said. 

“Even Hufflepuff?” Harry asked. He could see Severus being Sorted into Ravenclaw or Gryffindor – he was certainly smart or brave enough for either of those houses – but though he knew Severus wasn't afraid of hard work, he couldn't imagine him in Hufflepuff.

“Even Hufflepuff, though I suspect it may have been joking about that,” Severus confirmed.

“What made it choose Slytherin, then?” asked Harry. “Did you choose it?”

“Essentially, yes. I was debating whether I should ask to go into Gryffindor to be with Lily, or to go into Slytherin like my mum. That's what made the Hat mention Hufflepuff. Then I thought that if I went into Gryffindor I'd have to spend seven years with Black and Po – James – and that would likely result in regular trips to the infirmary,” Severus said. “That's when the Sorting Hat laughed and said it had never encountered a Gryffindor with such a sense of self-preservation and placed me in Slytherin.”

Harry laughed. “I'm glad it did. Otherwise, you never would've been my Head of House.”

Severus smiled back at him. “Indeed.”


	9. In Which Harry has Forgiven Sirius, and Severus is Supremely Embittered

Sirius arrived at Fen House on the last Monday of the holidays. Harry was sitting in the oak tree with Ladon when he saw Sirius Apparate into the field in front of the property. He was sitting on his motorbike but got off and wheeled it to the fence, resting it against it then walking through the gate. Harry quickly said goodbye to Ladon and climbed down out of the tree.

“Hi,” he called out once he had both feet on the ground.

Sirius looked around in surprise. “Harry! Where'd you come from?”

Harry pointed up into the tree. “I was sitting up there with Ladon.”

“Ah, yes, I've heard about your snake. You forced Draco up that tree at wand-point, to hear him tell it,” Sirius said, giving his bark-like laugh.

“He would say that,” Harry grumbled. “I'll just grab my helmet and jacket and we can go.”

Sirius followed him up the garden path but stopped at the front door.

“You can come in, you know,” Harry said neutrally.

It was as much an invite to Sirius as it was a warning to Severus, who was sitting at the kitchen table finalising his lesson plans for the year. He put them down and stood up as Sirius walked into the lounge room.

“Black.”

“Snape.”

Harry took a deep breath as he picked his helmet and jacket up off the coffee table, then turned around with forced cheerfulness. “All set.”

“No flying and I want him back before dinner,” Severus said at once.

“Alright,” Sirius growled.

When they fell silent and glared at each other across the room, Harry stepped in between them. “Dad, I'll be fine. He's taken me riding before and nothing bad happened. I do more dangerous stuff on my broom.”

“That's not at all reassuring,” Severus said.

Sirius bristled. “What's that supposed to mean?”

“Okay, let's go!” Harry said loudly, wishing Remus was there to help him keep the peace. “I'll see you later, Dad.”

“If he receives any injury through your recklessness, I will inflict the same amount of damage twofold on you, Black,” Severus said.

“Is that your idea of a threat?” Sirius asked mockingly.

“Bye!” Harry said even louder than before, pushing Sirius back out of the house. 

Sirius spun around and stomped down the gravel path, swearing under his breath. Harry silently counted to ten before hurrying after him. 

“Where are you taking me?” he asked.

“No where in particular. Thought we might go south, though,” Sirius said, sounding more upbeat now that he'd left the house. “We can have lunch somewhere, maybe find a town on the coast?”

“Sounds good,” Harry said.

A minute later they were on the bike, bumping their way across the field to the closest lane. Harry had to direct Sirius along the backroads to get to Cerrigydrudion. If Sirius noticed Harry tighten his hold on his waist as they coasted past the graveyard, he didn't say anything about. 

Once they were on the other side of the village, Sirius opened the throttle up properly and the bike took off with a roar down the highway. Harry had thought they'd gone fast in London, but that was nothing. Out here in the Welsh countryside there were no traffic lights or speed bumps. What little traffic they encountered was so thinly spread that Sirius easily overtook anything in their way. It was rather like flying on his Firebolt a couple of feet off the ground, and Harry couldn't stop grinning inside his helmet.

The terrain gradually got wilder the further south they went, flat farmlands giving way to mountains which, while nothing compared to those near Hogwarts, were certainly a change from the parts of Wales Harry had seen so far. 

It only took them about an hour to reach the seaside town of Tywyn. Sirius slowed down as they reached it, and after riding around the town, they stopped outside a pub looking out over the water. They managed to find a table outside in the crowded beer garden.

A harried-looking waitress came over to give them a pair of menus after they sat down. “Can I get you any drinks?” she asked.

“A pint of lager and...” Sirius looked at Harry.

“Just a Coke, please.”

“No need to hurry, I can see how busy you are,” Sirius said, smiling up at the waitress.

The waitress flashed him a grateful smile. “What brand of beer would you like?”

“Surprise me. I'm sure you've good taste,” Sirius said, leaning back in his chair. 

Her smile widened. “I'll be right back.”

Harry watched it all in amusement and raised an eyebrow at Sirius once they were alone.

“Nothing wrong with being friendly to the wait staff,” he said calmly, opening up his menu. 

He had a point, as the waitress was back only a minute later to serve them their drinks and take their lunch orders. 

“If I didn't know better, I'd accuse you of using magic to serve us so quickly,” Sirius told her when she deposited a large platter of fish and chips on their table. 

The waitress giggled before heading back inside. Harry sniggered into his Coke.

“So I like flirting with waitresses. It's not a crime and more importantly, Moony doesn't care,” Sirius said.

“Hey, I'm not complaining. It got us served quicker,” Harry said, dumping tomato sauce on his plate.

“Exactly,” Sirius said happily. “So, excited to be heading back to Hogwarts soon?”

Harry nodded. “'Course. Although Dad's started telling me how tough the OWLs are going to be.”

“Yeah, they are,” Sirius said sympathetically, then brightened. “Still, I managed to pass, and I was learning how to become an Animagus on top of all my normal study.”

“Hey, yeah,” Harry said. “And it helps that my dad's the Potions teacher.”

“I guess so... Have you ever thought about it?”

Harry stared at him in confusion. “What, becoming the Potions teacher?”

“No, becoming an Animagus.”

Harry laughed, but stopped when he saw that Sirius was sincere. “Nah, I'm not that interested in becoming a deer.”

“You don't know what your form would be until you actually manage the transformation,” Sirius said.

“Pretty sure I do, though,” Harry said. “My Patronus is a deer, just like all three of my parents, and Dad's Animagus form was a deer.”

“You make a convincing argument,” Sirius said, ignoring the way Harry emphasised “all three”. “Still, what's wrong with being a deer? James always had fun.”

Harry shook his head. “Don't really see the point. Unless I could turn into something that flies. I definitely wouldn't mind being able to fly.”

“That's not surprising. I've seen you on a broom.”

“I feel more comfortable in the air,” Harry said with a shrug.

“We could take the bike up after lunch,” Sirius offered. “I think I've fixed the invisibility -”

“Dad said not to,” Harry interrupted.

“He doesn't have to know,” Sirius said conspiratorially.

Harry fixed him with a level stare. “I'm not lying to him, Sirius. You mightn't have liked your parents, but I like mine.”

“Your dad never had a problem with breaking the rules,” Sirius muttered into his beer.

“And neither do I,” Harry said. “Just not the ones Dad gives me. Besides, he lets me get away with a lot.”

Sirius snorted. “Remus told me how biased he is towards Slytherins.”

“Yeah, and I'm his favourite Slytherin,” Harry said. 

“Well, okay,” Sirius said reluctantly. “How's it going with him, anyway? I mean, really?”

“Brilliant. Well, except for Occlumency. He's been teaching me that over the summer and I hate it,” Harry said feelingly.

“I've heard about that,” Sirius nodded. When Harry looked at him in confusion he elaborated. “McGonagall told us about it at the last meeting. She was pretty worried about you seeing the entrance to the Department of Mysteries.”

“Oh, right. Well, I've finally got the hang of clearing my mind, mostly. But now I need to come up with a barrier thing and I don't...” Harry trailed off as an idea struck him.

“What is it?” Sirius asked.

Harry shook his head; he'd prefer to ask Severus about this first. “Nothing. Can we stop talking about Occlumency now?”

“Sure. I don't know much about it anyway, you would've lost me in a minute,” Sirius said.

There was a brief silence, then Harry asked, “How's your house cleaning going?”

Sirius nodded and swallowed his mouthful. “Better, actually. Narcissa's agreed that anything I don't like can be hidden away in the attic for her and Andromeda to go through later. She doesn't trust me with it, for some reason.”

“I wonder why,” Harry drawled.

Sirius barked a laugh. “Yeah... Kreacher's stashing some stuff in his room – and he's attached to some pretty weird stuff – but as long as it doesn't get destroyed or thrown out, Narcissa's fine with it. I'm just looking forward to finding out that most of it's useless so I can destroy it and tell her I told her so.”

“Mature,” Harry laughed. 

Sirius just grinned. “Maturity's overrated.”

********

  
The sun was setting in a blaze of red and orange by the time Sirius dropped Harry off at the gate to Fen House. As soon as he got off the motorbike Harry was pulled into a fierce hug.

“Have a good term and I'll see you at Christmas,” Sirius said.

“You too,” Harry replied. “Say hi to Remus.”

Sirius released him. “Will do. Stay out of trouble.”

“I know you mean the opposite of that,” Harry said with a laugh.

Sirius laughed too, then snapped the visor down on his helmet. He took off in a flurry of kicked up dirt clods, gaining speed before he pulled up on the handlebars and the bike left the ground. A second later he flickered out of sight, though Harry could still hear the roar of the engine as he began walking up to the house. He supposed any Muggles who heard it would just assume they could hear an aeroplane that was flying above the clouds. 

Harry walked into the house to find Severus chopping up some kind of meat in the kitchen and singing along to “Bohemian Rhapsody”. He stopped abruptly when he noticed Harry.

“Don't stop just 'cause I'm here. You sound a lot better than me,” Harry said.

“A strangled duck has a better singing voice than you do,” Severus said, his eyes flicking towards the door.

“Probably,” Harry said. “He's gone, by the way, so you can relax.”

“I wasn't -”

“The two of you are going to have to grow up sometime, you know,” Harry continued. 

“I will when he does,” Severus said, slamming the knife down harder than he had been previously.

Harry sighed. “I'm going to have a shower, but I'll help you cook after I'm out.”

Dinner was almost over when Severus cleared his throat. “Did you have a good time?” he asked stiffly.

Harry smiled at him, recognising how much it cost Severus to ask. “I did, thanks. Actually, I had a – what are they called – you know when you suddenly have a brilliant idea?”

“Epiphany?”

“Yeah. I had one of those. About my mental barrier. I think.”

Severus raised an eyebrow. “Go on.”

“Right, well, we were talking about me becoming an Animagus – I'm not,” Harry hastened to add when Severus pinched the bridge of his nose with a pained expression. “Believe me, I've no intention of becoming a deer.”

Severus snorted. “And?”

“Well, I mentioned that the only reason I might want to do it is if I thought I was going to be something that could fly. Because that's what I'm best at, isn't it, and I'm comfortable on a broom, and didn't you say my barrier should be something that made me feel, you know, safe or whatever?” Harry took a breath when he realised he'd begun babbling.

“I hadn't thought of that,” Severus said slowly.

Harry slumped in his seat. “You think it's stupid. Well, you said that I could just run away, and I thought -”

“No, Harry, this is good,” Severus said.

Harry jerked up in surprise. “Really? I had a good idea about Occlumency? Me?”

“As unlikely as that sounds, yes. You regularly dream about flying so your mind should take to this form of defence quite easily,” Severus said, clearly thinking aloud. He smiled suddenly. “I think you may pick up this aspect of Occlumency faster than you have thus far.”

Harry grinned. “It's not like I can get any worse at it.”

“I don't see how you could, no.”

********

  
On Friday morning Harry began sorting through his things, trying to decide what he wanted to take to Hogwarts on Sunday. For the first time in his life he was in a position to leave some of his stuff at home, and he was finding it hard to choose what to leave behind.

He picked up _Lord of the Flies_ and took it downstairs to return to the bookshelf. He'd finished it the day before and had no intention of ever reading it again. He popped it back in its spot and then scanned the shelves for something else to read. Severus was kneeling in front of bookshelves built into the underside of the staircase, piling books onto the floor.

“Did you like it?” Severus asked, pulling out a book and flipping it open.

“It was okay. Pretty depressing,” Harry said, pulling out _The Three Musketeers_.

“In that case, try _The Hitchiker's Guide to the Galaxy_ ,” Severus said, putting his book back. “It's quite amusing. Up near the Austen.”

Harry shot him a suspicious look. “Any giant elves in this? Friendly Dementors? Intelligent trolls?”

Severus laughed. “Safe on all accounts. There are some aliens and one robot, but as I've never met any of those, I cannot vouch for their authenticity.”

“I'll risk it,” Harry decided. 

He stretched up to get the book off the top shelf and flipped it over to read the blurb.

“Good morning.”

Harry jumped at the voice beside him. He looked over to see Dumbledore's head sitting in the now lit fireplace. “Hello, sir.”

“Forgive me, Harry, I didn't mean to startle you,” Dumbledore said.

“It's okay,” Harry said.

Severus walked over. “Albus. What can I do for you?”

“I need you to pop over to Hogwarts. The new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor has been appointed and I'd like to speak to all the staff,” Dumbledore said. 

Severus frowned and glanced at Harry. “Very well. How long will it take?”

Dumbledore smiled. “Not long, my boy. Harry will be quite alright here for the duration. I'll see you in my office. Good day, Harry.”

His head disappeared and the flames went out, leaving the fireplace cold and bare. Severus was still frowning into it.

“Is everything okay?” Harry eventually asked.

Severus nodded slowly. “I think so. Although Dumbledore doesn't usually call us all in for a meeting whenever he appoints a new staff member. The only time I've ever been told in person was when Lupin was hired, and that was only because I'd gone to inform him that you'd be spending the summer here. He usually just owls us all...”

He Summoned a black robe and pulled it on over his Muggle clothes, then turned to Harry as he began buttoning it up. “Go make sure that you have all the Potions ingredients you will need for the term. We should have all the necessary plants stored in the lab already, but you may need to harvest a few things yourself. Anything we don't have can wait until we go to Diagon Alley.”

“Okay.”

“And whatever you do, do not leave the property until I return,” Severus said. 

“Dad, go. I'll be fine. If anything happens I'll take one of the stupid Portkeys to Hogwarts or the Manor,” Harry said impatiently.

Severus gave him a sharp look and nodded once. He scooped up some Floo powder from the mantle piece and threw it into the fireplace. “Dumbledore's office,” he called, before disappearing in a flurry of black robes and green flames.

********

  
Harry was packing his Potions equipment and ingredients into his school trunk when he heard the whoosh of the Floo, and then Severus called out his name.

“Down in a sec!” he shouted back.

He finished stacking his Potions things in his trunk and put a pile of folded clothing next to it. He gave it an experimental wiggle and, satisfied nothing would fall and break, stood up and went downstairs. 

Severus was pacing around the lounge room. When he caught sight of Harry he stopped. “I have your book list. We need to leave now if we are to get to Diagon Alley before the shops close. Do you have your wand?”

Harry nodded. “Why do we need to go now?”

“Because the rest of the students will be receiving their own book lists tomorrow morning and will immediately descend upon Diagon Alley. I don't fancy being crushed inside Flourish and Blotts with hundreds of over-excited adolescents, only to find they've sold out of the books you need,” Severus said.

Harry winced. “That is going to suck.”

“Indeed. Come on.”

“Why did Dumbledore leave it so late?” Harry asked as they walked down the garden path.

“He had to wait for the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher to set the subject's textbook, “ Severus said. 

He pushed open the gate and held his arm out for Harry to grasp. A few seconds later they were standing outside Gringotts.

“Who is it?” Harry asked as they walked inside.

“I'll tell you all about it when we're home again,” Severus said, walking over to the nearest available goblin. 

It took them nearly half an hour to visit both of their vaults and return to Diagon Alley. They headed straight to Flourish and Blotts and found the nearest assistant.

“We need _The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 5 and Defensive Magical Theory_ , by Wilbert Slinkhard,” Severus told her.

“ _Defensive Magical Theory_?” the woman asked, wrinkling her brow. “I think we might have a copy out the back somewhere, let me go check.”

“Do you need anything from the Slug and Jiggers?” Severus asked Harry while they waited.

“Yeah, a few different beetles and some salamander tails. We had all the plants I needed. We're nearly out of lacewings though,” Harry said, pulling his money bag out of his pocket.

“Put that away,” Severus said quietly.

“But my books -”

“Are no longer your expense,” Severus said.

“Er, okay,” Harry said slowly.

“I'll pay for anything you need from now on, though as I've just discovered that you have more money that I ever will, I shan't be giving you an allowance. You can use the money from your own vault to pay for anything you want. Understand?” Severus said.

“Sounds fair,” Harry agreed. He'd been embarrassed by the mounds of coins in his vault in comparison to the single, modestly-sized pile in Severus'.

Just then the sales assistant returned carrying two books. “You're in luck, we had a couple in stock.”

“I'd advise ordering in some more. That book has just been added to the Hogwarts book list,” Severus told her.

The sales assistant paled. “For the entire school? Oh, my manager is _not_ going to like this...”

“Book lists went out today,” Severus added.

“But it's 31st August tomorrow,” she said.

“It is,” Severus agreed.

“Oh god, I'm working tomorrow,” she moaned. 

“You could call in sick now,” Harry said.

All he got was an absent nod as the sales assistant rang up the books on the till. “Have a nice evening,” she said faintly, handing him the bag.

“I think you broke her,” Harry said once they were back out in the street.

“She'll survive. Hurry up, the apothecary closes in a few minutes.”

They needn't have hurried. The apothecary owner was working when they came in, and he smiled widely when he saw Severus. The two men chatted while Harry set about gathering up what he needed for the coming year.

“We're getting take away, I don't feel like cooking tonight,” Severus said once they were done.

Harry looked up and down Diagon Alley at all the shops closing for the night. “Where?”

“There's a Chinese place just on the other side of the Leaky Cauldron,” Severus said, transfiguring his robe into a short jacket.

It wasn't long before they were home again and seated at the kitchen table with their dinner. Harry picked up his chopsticks and checked to see how Severus was holding his. He'd never used them before, but Severus seemed to know what he was doing. 

“So, this new teacher,” he prompted.

Severus sighed. “Ministry spy.”

Harry dropped his chopsticks. “What?”

“Dumbledore couldn't find anyone who would take the position – I'm still unsuitable, apparently,” Severus said sourly. “So Fudge stepped in.”

“Fudge? He can hire teachers?” Harry asked, picking up his chopsticks.

“He can now that he has passed Educational Decree Number Twenty-Two,” Severus said. “If the current Head of Hogwarts is unable to fill a position, the Minister will provide someone. Coincidentally, this decree was concocted at a time during which the Headmaster of Hogwarts and the Minister for Magic are disagreeing rather stridently with each other.”

Harry fiddled with his chopsticks, conflicted. While the idea of a Ministry spy at Hogwarts was horrible, he didn't want Severus taking a job that might be cursed. “Who is it?”

“Dolores Umbridge. She works for the Ministry; a lifelong bureaucrat, but don't let that fool you. She's supposedly quite close to Fudge, and if he wants her at Hogwarts, you can guarantee she agrees with the Ministry's position towards you. Tread carefully around her, Harry,” Severus said ominously.

“She can't be any worse than Crouch was last year, with the rest of my class,” Harry said, trying to scoop up a piece of broccoli.

Severus leaned over the table and adjusted Harry's grip. “That was one lone madman. This woman will have the full support of the Minister for Magic. Remember that.”

Harry nodded. “So that's why Dumbledore called you all to Hogwarts today? To warn you about her?”

“Mostly. He also wanted to discuss the return of the Dark Lord with the members of staff who are not in the Order.”

“Is it just you and McGonagall?”

“And Hagrid, though the rest of the staff do believe that the Dark Lord has returned.”

Harry frowned. “But Hagrid wasn't at the meeting I went to. I would have remembered seeing him there.”

“Hagrid is on a long-term mission for the Order,” Severus said.

“Is he going to be at Hogwarts on Sunday?” Harry asked. He couldn't imagine a Hogwarts without Hagrid there.

“It's unlikely.”

“What's he doing? All he'd tell us in June was that he thought he might've gotten Maxime to agree to go with him.”

Severus nodded. “He has been sent to approach the giants to attempt to win them to our side. We're hoping he can reach them before the Death Eaters do.”

“Giants? But I thought – Draco told me they were nearly wiped out,” Harry said in confusion.

“Almost, but not quite, though it is true that there are no longer any giants left in Britain. There are a few colonies in some mountains in Eastern Europe – mainly Russia, I believe,” Severus said.

“So, Hagrid's trying to recruit giants, Remus is working on werewolves, and there's a few people working different areas of the Ministry,” Harry summarised. “Any others? Merpeople? Vampires?”

“Bill Weasley is feeling out the goblins, though I think that's a pointless endeavour. Goblins don't usually take sides in human conflicts,” Severus said. “This shouldn't be surprising. Until the Dark Lord reveals himself and the Ministry is forced to concede he has returned, we're basically engaged in a propaganda war.”

Harry thought about that. “And now you think Hogwarts is going to become a new battlefield.”

“I know it will.”

Harry managed to pick up a piece of chicken and quickly popped it into his mouth. They ate in silence for a few minutes.

“Dad, why do you want the Defence position so much?” he asked eventually.

“Because it interests me,” Severus said simply.

“But so does Potions. Why keep asking if Dumbledore's refusing to give it to you?” Harry pressed.

“Because it's incredibly frustrating to demonstrate the correct method of brewing a potion only to see uninterested students bungle it, lesson after lesson, year after year,” Severus said irritably, then sighed. “There's also the fact that given my past, I would be quite effective at teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts since I have previously practised them. Personal experience is not something a book can teach you.”

“So why does Dumbledore keep saying no?” Harry asked.

“All he will say is that he has his reasons,” Severus said bitterly.

“Well, maybe he does,” Harry said tentatively. When Severus gave him a very unimpressed look, he raised his hands. “Hey, I'm not saying I agree with him. Although I do very much like having you as my Potions teacher. And I'd really like it if you didn't take a cursed position.”

“It's not cursed,” Severus snapped.

“I've had four Defence teachers in four years,” Harry argued. “One's dead, one got kissed by a Dementor, one quit and has been unemployed ever since, and the other ran away in disgrace... And now that I've said that, maybe this Umbridge woman is only going to last a year. Maybe we don't need to worry about her that much.”

“We can only hope,” Severus said darkly. “Now, I wanted to talk to you about Prefects.”

“What about them?”

“You know that they're chosen in fifth year. Each Head of Houses nominate two students to the Headmaster, though the final decision is his,” Severus said, sounding uncomfortable. “I put forward Draco and Pansy's names, and the Headmaster has agreed.”

“You don't think I would've been a good Prefect?” Harry asked, feeling hurt. “'Cause, you know, any time I've gotten into trouble, Draco's usually right there with me.”

Severus shook his head. “It's not that. Not at all, Harry. I just think you have enough to deal with this year. You've been recovering from your ordeal in June, true, but now there's the Ministry's campaign against you... Not to mention that if you were chosen as Prefect shortly after I adopted you, people would say you'd only received the position due to nepotism.”

Harry nodded slowly, appeased. “Okay... Why them? I mean, Theo and Tracey would've been good...”

“Theodore will be living with the ramifications of fleeing his father and Tracey is too shy with people she doesn't know in my opinion,” Severus said.

Harry nodded again. “Do you know who the other houses have?”

“Ravenclaw has Padma Patil and Anthony Goldstein; Hannah Abbott and Ernie Macmillan for Hufflepuff; and Gryffindor has Hermione and Ron Weasley,” Severus recited.

“Hermione got it? Cool!” Harry said, happy for her, then frowned. “Wait, what? Weasley? _He's_ a Prefect? Bloody hell. And Hermione has to work with him? Whose brilliant idea was that?”

“Minerva's,” Severus said, sounding defensive. “Who would you prefer she chose? Longbottom or Finnegan, who do their best to kill the entire class every Potions lesson?”

“I would've picked Dean – hey! You told McGonagall not to pick Seamus or Ron!” Harry said accusingly.

“I may have expressed a preference,” Severus said shiftily.

“Okay, but Weasley? I mean, Hermione was the obvious choice for the girls, surely McGonagall doesn't expect her and Weasley to get along?”

“She hopes they will be able to learn to work together and stop disrupting her house so much,” Severus said.

“Good luck with that,” Harry said doubtfully.

Severus cocked his head. “I had thought you might be a little upset I didn't choose you.”

“Well, what's the point of being a Prefect? It's just extra work, isn't it? Although being able to take points would be kinda cool...”

“It is,” Severus confirmed.

“But,” Harry went on, “the best thing would have to be the bathroom. And Draco'll just tell me the password for that.”

“By all means, continue to tell your Head of House how you're already planning on breaking rules before you've even returned to school,” Severus drawled.

“You're going to punish me for using the Prefects' bathroom?” Harry asked, raising a brow.

“Don't be ridiculous. Just don't get caught.”

“Deal,” Harry said, grinning, then clapped his hand to his scar as it burst into pain. He groaned in pain through gritted teeth.

“Are you alright?” Severus asked urgently.

“I'm fucking fine!” Harry snarled, his eyes squeezed shut against the pain even as a bolt of pure anger, of hatred, shot through him. It abated suddenly, and he lowered his hand again and looked at Severus. “Sorry.”

Severus had gone completely still. He didn't say anything, just studied Harry through narrowed eyes.

“I'm really sorry,” Harry said, more urgently this time. “I just got so angry for no reason. I don't know... That wasn't...”

Severus' eyebrows drew together. “I want you to spend twice as long with your mind cleared before bed tonight,” he said finally.

“Okay. Why?”

Severus' mouth was set grimly. “Because I think you just picked up on the Dark Lord's mood.”

“I what?” Harry blurted.

“It's just a theory, but a sound one, I fear, given the available evidence. I also want you to let me know the instant your scar hurts again,” Severus said.

Harry nodded. “But you could be wrong, yeah?”

“I could,” Severus allowed.

Harry wasn't at all reassured.


	10. In Which Harry's Return to Hogwarts is not as Pleasant as Usual

On Sunday morning Harry put the last of his school things in his trunk and slammed the lid shut, happy to finally be done packing. Hedwig was sleeping inside her cage, used to the commotion of 1st September, but Ladon was muttering agitatedly to himself from within his basket. Harry had explained about Hogwarts to him, and Ladon was in turns nervous and excited to be setting off. 

All packed, Harry stood in the doorway frowning around at all his possessions that were still inside his room.

“What's the matter?” Severus asked, coming out of his own room.

“It feels weird not having to take everything I own with me,” Harry said quietly.

Severus rested a hand on Harry's shoulder. “If you've left anything vital behind I can always Apparate back here.”

“Thanks,” Harry said, smiling up at him. 

Severus nodded once. “Ready to leave?”

“All set.”

Severus took Ladon's basket, leaving Harry to carry Hedwig's cage and his trunk outside to the gate. Severus grasped Harry by his upper arm and, holding on tightly, Apparated them to the end of platform 9 ¾. They began walking down towards the crowd, but Severus stopped only a few metres away from the Apparition point. 

“Wait. Narcissa is meeting us here,” he said, scanning the platform.

“How come?” Harry asked.

“I need to speak with her and won't get a chance for a while after I arrive at Hogwarts,” Severus replied, still searching the crowd.

Harry looked around as well, and noticed just how many people were staring back at him. It wasn't just the students, either – quite a few parents were gawking just as overtly as their children were.

“Why's everyone staring at us?” he asked quietly.

“Because the _Prophet_ has spent the last two months printing lies about you, as well as reporting on the adoption,” Severus said.

“Great, another year of everyone thinking I'm a liar,” Harry grumbled.

“People are idiots. Pay no attention to them,” Severus said.

“Harry!”

He turned around to see Draco hurrying towards him, with Hermione, Theo and Narcissa following him away from the Apparition point. 

“Hi,” Draco said, reaching for Harry's hand and squeezing it briefly. “I got picked as a Prefect!”

“I know, Dad told me. Congratulations,” Harry said, smiling from Draco to Hermione.

“Thanks,” said Hermione who, like Draco, had her shiny new Prefect badge pinned to the front of her uniform.

“Have a good year, all of you, and stay safe,” Narcissa said, hugging Harry, Hermione and Theo.

“Thank you for taking me in this summer,” Theo said.

“It was a pleasure, Theodore. I just wish it had been under happier circumstances. You're always welcome to stay with us,” Narcissa said warmly, then took Draco by the arm and led him a couple of metres away.

Hermione looked at Harry and Theo. “Draco and I have to go to the Prefects' carriage for a meeting, but we'll come find you as soon as we can.”

“We'll save you some seats,” Harry promised.

“Thanks,” Hermione said. “Who's the other Gryffindor Prefect?”

“Weasley,” Harry said, grimacing sympathetically.

Hermione groaned. “Fantastic.”

Draco wandered over, having been released by Narcissa. “If he bothers you I can give him detention, as can, ah...”

“Pansy,” Harry supplied.

“Excellent,” Draco grinned. “Pansy would definitely give him detention for you.”

“You can't give detention to another Prefect!” Hermione protested.

“Save us some seats,” Draco said to Harry, then put his arm around Hermione's shoulders. “Then I'll bribe the Head Girl or Boy and they can do it for you...” he said as they walked off. Hermione was laughing as they got onto the train.

“You'd best make haste if you want to find a free compartment,” Severus said.

“Right. I – I'll see you at dinner, I guess,” Harry said.

“Undoubtedly,” Severus replied.

Harry and Theo said goodbye to Narcissa and got onto the Hogwarts Express. Theo craned his neck to see down the crowded corridor.

“I can see Blaise,” he said, then stuck his hand up in the air. “Oi! Blaise!”

He and Harry jostled their way past some Gryffindors to reach Blaise, who was standing in the doorway of an empty compartment.

“Hi,” he said dully.

Theo frowned at him. “You alright?”

“Yeah,” Blaise said, then shook his head. “No. In here, come on.”

They piled into the compartment and shut the door. Harry sat down with Ladon's basket in his lap and Hedwig's cage next to him, while across from him, Theo sat and faced Blaise, who was slumped down in the corner next to the window.

“What is it?” Theo asked.

“Giovanni died last week.”

“I'm sorry,” Theo said, leaning over to hug Blaise.

“Was he your step-dad?” Harry asked.

Blaise nodded. “I actually liked this one. Well, I don't remember the first two, but the two before Giovanni were tossers. But he was always nice to me. We used to listen to the Italian Quidditch games on the wireless together.”

“What happened?” asked Harry.

Blaise shrugged miserably. “Some sort of wasting disease. Not sure what, exactly, he just got really thin and tired and, like, _old_ looking. Like he aged twenty years in a month. We had to get a Healer to come to the house from St Mungo's because Giovanni was too weak to travel there, but she couldn't do anything for him.”

Harry and Theo shared a dark look.

Blaise saw them and scowled. “I know you've both heard the rumours, but Mother didn't do anything to him, alright? She's fucking devastated. They were planning a trip to Switzerland that they had to scrap because of his illness. You don't plan holidays with people if you're planning on killing them!”

“Good point,” Harry said quickly.

Just then the door slid open and Tracey walked in, dragging her trunk and carrying her owl's cage. “There you are,” she said, shutting the door again.

“Sorry, Blaise got upset so we came in here to talk in private,” Theo said. He stood up and lifted Tracey's trunk onto the overhead rack.

“Are you okay?” Tracey asked in concern. She put her owl cage in the corner of the seat. Her owl, Opal, didn't even wake up.

“I'm fine,” Blaise said. “I was just telling them that my step-father died. I wasn't crying or anything.”

Tracey's face crumpled in sympathy as she sat down between Theo and Blaise. “I'm sorry.”

“I'm fine,” Blaise repeated. “It could be worse. Your boyfriend's the one who got beaten up by his actual father.”

Tracey slid her hand into Theo's as his face darkened. “True, but he's always been an arsehole,” he muttered.

There was a tense silence, during which Harry cast about for a topic that would lighten the mood.

“You guys want to see my snake?” he asked, gesturing at Ladon's basket.

Blaise looked at him as if he'd gone mad. “What? No thanks. Besides, I've seen it in the dorm before, and I'd assume Theo has too.”

Harry stared at him. “I meant Ladon. He's a boomslang.”

Theo leaned around Tracey to see Blaise. “Snape got him a pet snake for his birthday, you idiot.”

“How was I supposed to know? Harry's the one pointing at his dick!” Blaise protested.

“I pointed at the basket. Ladon's sleeping in it,” Harry said.

“Honestly, Blaise, try to get your mind out of the gutter for once,” Tracey said, rolling her eyes. 

“But it's fun in the gutter,” Blaise said, grinning.

Tracey ignored him and leaned forward. “I'd like to see Ladon.”

“Can you chuck something over Opal's cage first? Ladon and Hedwig are used to each other by now, but another owl might scare him,” Harry said.

Harry spent the next few minutes coaxing Ladon out of his basket. He'd just convinced him it was perfectly safe when the train finally took off from the station with a loud whistle, sending Ladon back to the depths of his basket, and making Harry start all over again. Eventually, he managed to get the boomslang wound around his wrist.

“He's so pretty,” Tracey said.

“ _Tracey says you're pretty_ ,” Harry said.

“ _Really?_ ” Ladon said. 

Harry laughed as the snake preened in her direction. “I think he's going to end up with really dark green scales. Male boomslangs can be a whole bunch of different colours, but he's definitely looking less grey than when I got him.”

The Hogwarts Express was nearly a hour out of London by the time Draco and Hermione walked into the compartment carrying Thoth and Crookshanks. Ladon was curled loosely on Harry's lap and allowing Tracey to stroke him as he drowsed, and didn't see the arrival of Thoth. 

“Apparently he's really vain, because he's taken to you almost as quickly as he did to Draco, and he can talk to him,” Harry was saying.

Draco sat down next to Harry and reached out to pat Ladon. “ _Hello, Ladon. How are you liking the train?_ ”

“ _It's very noisy_ ,” Ladon began.

He was proved right by the door sliding open with a crash, making everyone jump slightly. Ladon immediately slithered up Harry's arm and hid along his shoulder, peeking around his neck at an irate Pansy standing in the doorway.

Hermione cringed. “I was just about to tell you that Pansy knows about the adoption.”

“No thanks to you, Potter! You couldn't have owled me? I had to find out in the _Prophet_!” she cried. 

“ _It's okay_ ,” Harry hissed quickly, reaching up to pat Ladon. “Pansy, most people didn't know beforehand. We were supposed to keep it secret.”

“But you could've told _me_ about it. I'm great at keeping secrets,” Pansy declared.

There was a second of stunned silence before everyone else burst out laughing. 

“Do you even know the meaning of the word?” Hermione asked.

“Shut it. It's alright for you, you knew beforehand,” Pansy retorted.

“Pansy, seriously, apart from Dad and I, only about five other people knew. It's nothing personal,” Harry said.

Pansy arched an eyebrow. “Nothing personal? Really? My mum's been at me ever since she read about it to get an interview with you for _Witch Weekly_.”

“An interview? Why?” Harry asked.

“Because you're Harry Potter,” Pansy said, as if explaining something to a very small, not particularly bright child. “Do you have any idea how many copies she'd sell with an exclusive about your adoption?”

“That's not happening,” Harry said.

Pansy pursed her lips, then nodded. “Fine. But you can write to my mum to tell her that.”

“Fine. But that's _all_ I'm doing, Parkinson,” Harry said.

Pansy stuck out her hand and shook his. “Great! I'm off to find Millicent. Hermione, I'll hex Weasley if I see him on my way.”

“Thanks,” Hermione said as Pansy walked out the door.

Harry looked at her, surprised by her change in attitude. “Meeting went that badly?”

“He is completely insufferable,” Hermione said. “I can tell I'm going to end up doing all the work, and he argued with nearly everything I said.”

“Didn't the Head Boy or Girl say anything?” asked Theo.

Draco rolled his eyes. “They're not going to be much help. Diggory thinks they'll end up getting along soon enough, and Mkapa said they should go to McGonagall as their Head of House if they're that unhappy with each other.”

Tracey brightened. “Elizabeth's Head Girl?” When everyone stared at her, she shrugged. “She loaned me a rare Arithmancy text once. I like her.”

“Who are the other Prefects?” asked Theo.

As Draco reeled off the list, Harry tuned the conversation out, having heard it all before from Severus, and chose instead to talk to Ladon. Talk moved from Prefects to the Heads of House, to the new Defence professor, and Harry found himself getting interrogated as to what exactly he'd been told about this Umbridge woman. 

“And Dumbledore's hired her?” Theo asked.

“I don't think he had much of a choice, apart from letting Dad have the position,” Harry said.

“Surely Snape would be a better choice than a Ministry spy?” asked Hermione.

Harry raised his eyebrows. “You'd think so. Dad's really pissed he got rejected again.”

Hermione frowned. “Dumbledore must have a reason, in that case...”

“If you can think of one, feel free to let me know,” Harry said.

The rest of the trip passed quickly, and before Harry knew it, the train was pulling into Hogsmeade Station. Hermione and Draco had to leave early to help organise the disembarkment of the Hogwarts Express, though they promised to rejoin the group at the carriages that would carry them all to Hogwarts. They left Crookshanks and Thoth with Theo and Blaise, much to Theo's displeasure, as Crookshanks was very vocally upset about this arrangement.

“All first years to me, please! First years over here!”

Harry's head jerked up at the unexpected voice. Instead of the hulking figure of Hagrid, it was Grubbly-Plank marshalling the first years. Hagrid was obviously still not back from his voyage to meet with the giants. Harry made a silent wish that Hagrid would return safely before he followed Blaise into a carriage.

“Fucking chaos,” Draco grumbled when he climbed in a few minutes later. “Why can't they just get the house-elves to do all this?”

“Maybe because they're busy cooking a feast for a few hundred people?” Hermione asked, taking Crookshanks off a very relieved Theo. “The more important question is why isn't Hagrid here? I hope he isn't sick.”

“He's not,” Harry blurted, then reddened. “He's, er, off doing something for Dumbledore. Dad told me. He should be back soon though.”

Everyone nodded at that, though Harry could tell that Draco and Hermione definitely weren't buying it, and Theo didn't look wholly convinced either. They let the matter rest, however, as their carriage trundled slowly towards Hogwarts. 

Once they got into the Great Hall, Hermione split off to sit at the Gryffindor table. Making his way to the Slytherin table, Harry noticed that people were again staring at him, and their whispers continued even after he'd sat down. Harry did his best to ignore them all and gazed up at the staff table to see what this Umbridge looked like. 

He'd tried to picture what a Ministry spy might look like. All he'd come up with was a bureaucratic type person, dressed all in grey who liked to keep to the shadows and never smiled. 

Umbridge was none of those things. She was seated next to Dumbledore, who had to lean down in order to listen to her, she was so short. She was wearing a hideous, fluffy pink sweater with a matching headband. With bulging eyes and a wide mouth, Harry was reminded strongly of a toad. Though perhaps that was being a bit too harsh towards toads, he thought, watching the fake smile Umbridge bestowed on Dumbledore. 

Dumbledore was listening to her intently, though Harry figured he was hardly stupid enough to be outright dismissive of a Ministry spy. He scanned the staff table to see how the other teachers were reacting to her presence. Severus was seated between Sinistra and Burbage, who were both huddled towards him and talking quietly. Severus was nodding occasionally but didn't appear to be saying anything himself, merely glaring down at the table. Despite his worry over the rumours of the curse on the position, Harry felt a stab of anger over Dumbledore's repeated rejections of Severus' applications. The rest of the staff were likewise gathered in tense little huddles of two or three, with most of them shooting the occasional distrustful glare in Umbridge's direction.

“Term hasn't even begun and the staff seem to hate Umbridge more than they did Lockhart,” Harry said, returning his attention to his friends. 

“Can you blame them?” Draco asked. “If she's everything you say she is...”

“What's that, then?” Millicent asked.

Theo repeated everything Harry had told them on the Hogwarts Express. Millicent and Daphne listened, their faces growing unhappier as he continued, but Pansy was more interested in Harry. 

“It's just occurred to me what a lot of insider knowledge you'll now have thanks to Snape,” she said.

“A bit, yeah,” Harry allowed. “You'll need to make it worth my while though.”

A calculating look swept over her features. “I'm sure I'll be able to figure something out. I'll get back to you.”

Just then, Grubbly-Plank walked into the hall from the side entrance and made her way to Hagrid's usual seat at the staff table. Not half a minute later McGonagall entered via the main doors, carrying the Sorting Hat on its stool and leading a long line of nervous looking first years. She put the stool on the platform in front of the staff table and then stepped to the side expectantly. A second later a rip in the hat opened and began to sing.

_In times of old when I was new_  
_And Hogwarts barely started_  
_The founders of our noble school_  
_Thought never to be parted:_  
_United by a common goal,_  
_They had the selfsame yearning,_  
_To make the world's best magic school_  
_And pass along their learning._  
_“Together we will build and teach!”_  
_The four good friends decided_  
_And never did they dream that they_  
_Might some day be divided,_  
_For were there such friends anywhere_  
_As Slytherin and Gryffindor?_  
_Unless it was the second pair_  
_Of Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw?_  
_So how could it have gone so wrong?_  
_How could such friendships fail?_  
_Why, I was there and so can tell_  
_The whole sad, sorry tale._  
_Said Slytherin, “We'll teach just those_  
_Whose ancestry is purest.”_  
_Said Ravenclaw, “We'll teach those whose_  
_Intelligence is surest.”_  
_Said Gryffindor, “We'll teach all those_  
_With brave deeds to their name,”_  
_Said Hufflepuff, “I'll teach the lot,_  
_And treat them just the same.”_  
_These differences caused little strife_  
_When first they came to light,_  
_For each of the four founders had_  
_A house in which they might_  
_Take only those they wanted, so,_  
_For instance, Slytherin_  
_Took only pure-blood wizards_  
_Of great cunning, just like him,_  
_And only those of sharpest mind_  
_Were taught by Ravenclaw_  
_While the bravest and the boldest_  
_Went to daring Gryffindor._  
_Good Hufflepuff, she took the rest,_  
_And taught them all she knew,_  
_Thus the houses and their founders_  
_Retained friendships firm and true._  
_So Hogwarts worked in harmony_  
_For several happy years,_  
_But then discord crept among us_  
_Feeding on our faults and fears._  
_The houses that, like pillars four,_  
_Had once held up our school,_  
_Now turned upon each other and,_  
_Divided, sought to rule._  
_And for a while it seemed the school_  
_Must meet an early end,_  
_What with duelling and with fighting_  
_And the clash of friend on friend_  
_And at last there came a morning_  
_When old Slytherin departed_  
_And though the fighting then died out_  
_He left us quite downhearted._  
_And never since the founders four_  
_Were whittled down to three_  
_Have the houses been united_  
_As they once were meant to be._  
_And now the Sorting Hat is here_  
_And you all know the score:_  
_I sort you into houses_  
_Because that is what I'm for,_  
_But this year I'll go further,_  
_Listen closely to my song:_  
_Though condemned I am to split you_  
_Still I worry that it's wrong,_  
_Though I must fulfil my duty_  
_And must quarter every year_  
_Still I wonder whether Sorting_  
_May not bring the end I fear._  
_Oh, know the perils, read the signs,_  
_The warning history shows,_  
_For our Hogwarts is in danger_  
_From external, deadly foes_  
_And we must unite inside her_  
_Or we'll crumble from within_  
_I have told you, I have warned you.._.  
_Let the Sorting now begin._

The Hat became still once more and applause swept the room, though the sound of tense conversation was almost as loud as the clapping as the older students discussed the new song. The first years seemed oblivious – or maybe they were simply too nervous about the impending Sorting in general – but most of the older students had noticed the Hat's song had veered away from its usual sunny history of Hogwarts.

“Does the Hat consider Umbridge to be outside the school, or is it just talking about the Dark Lord?” Draco whispered to Harry.

“No idea. Either way, it's not exactly reassuring when a piece of clothing feels the need to warn us,” Harry replied.

They fell silent then, for McGonagall was clearly eager to begin the Sorting and was glaring at any students still talking. The Sorting, at least, was the same as it usually was. The nervous first years – and Harry thought he must have had a growth spurt over summer, because they all looked _tiny_ – were called up alphabetically to place the Sorting Hat on their heads, then dispersed to all four houses. 

Harry applauded each new Slytherin as they were announced. They all clustered together at the end of the Slytherin table, and after the last name had been called, the Bloody Baron floated over to join them. None of them looked particularly thrilled about it, and Harry couldn't blame them. In four years the only conversation he'd had with the ghost had been after his own Sorting, when the Baron had warned them all that he expected them to win glory for the house. He didn't look like he was any friendlier this year.

At the staff table Dumbledore rose to his feet. “Welcome to Hogwarts! I have a few announcements to make, the most important of which is that dinner is served!”

A few people laughed as Dumbledore sat back down and golden platters of food appeared on all the tables. Talk amongst the fifth years quickly turned to the Quidditch league. Theo was smugly recounting the massive win the Tutshill Tornados had recently had over Puddlemere United, much to Millicent's annoyance. Harry listened eagerly, not having heard much about the league.

“Don't you keep up over summer?” Millicent eventually asked him. 

Harry shook his head. “Dad cancelled his subscription to the _Prophet_ because of what they're saying about me.”

“I don't blame him,” she growled.

“What about the wireless? You know they broadcast each match, don't you?” Draco asked.

Harry frowned. “I don't know if we have one. I've only ever used the record player. It has a radio, but obviously that only gets Muggle stations.”

Tracey leaned over towards him. “You have a record player? We're going to be studying them in Muggle Studies this year.”

Harry sighed. “I'll help you with your homework.”

“Thanks,” she said in unison with Theo.

Something wasn't quite right about the conversation, but it wasn't until dinner was nearly over that Harry figured out what was bothering him. Greg and Vince were sitting down with some sixth years, instead of with the rest of the fifth years. It had taken Harry so long to notice because they didn't usually say that much, but they usually joined in if the topic was Quidditch.

“Guess their dads have had a talk to them,” he said quietly, pointing to them with his fork.

“Fucking sheep,” Theo said scathingly.

“You can't say it was unexpected,” Daphne said fairly.

“No, but I have every right to judge them for it,” Theo replied.

“There could be another explanation for why they're sitting down there,” Daphne continued.

Draco frowned. “Like what?”

“Maybe they got lost,” Pansy suggested, making everyone laugh.

“They're not that stupid,” Millicent said. “Not quite.”

“I don't know, Crabbe was still getting confused about which bed was his in second year,” Draco sniggered.

“So glad he's over that,” Blaise said with a shudder.

All four girls were staring at them, clearly trying to decide whether they were joking or not, when the hall once again fell silent. Harry looked up to see Dumbledore had gotten to his feet once more.

“Now that your bellies are pleasantly full, allow me a few minutes to likewise fill your heads with some brief announcements,” Dumbledore began. “The Forbidden Forest is still forbidden to all students who do not wish to be eaten by any number of dangerous creatures.”

Harry saw a few first years giggle at that, and stifled a smile. 

“Mr Filch has asked that I remind you all – for what he says is the four-hundred-and-sixty-second time – that magic is not permitted between classes. He has a number of other things that are banned from the castle corridors, and has been kind enough to post a list of them on his office door for anyone interested. I am told it is quite a read.”

“We should go add Mrs Norris to the list,” Draco whispered to Harry, making him choke on his pumpkin juice.

“We have two new professors amongst us this year. Professor Grubbly-Plank will be once again substituting in for Care of Magical Creatures. And our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher is Professor Umbridge.”

The applause following this announcement was scattered and muted. Harry refused to clap at all, wishing again that Hagrid would return safely.

“And finally, those of you wishing to try out for the Quidditch teams -”

Harry frowned as Dumbledore cut off abruptly and looked down at Umbridge. Harry watched, confused, until he realised that Umbridge seemed to be a little taller than she had previously, and must have gotten to her feet. She cleared her throat with a simpering little “hem, hem”. Dumbledore merely stiffened slightly before he sat down and watched her with apparent polite enjoyment as she prepared to speak.

The rest of the staff were not as skilled at hiding their disapproval at Umbridge's interruption – or perhaps they simply didn't care to. Severus' lips were curled as he glared malevolently at Umbridge; McGonagall's lips had all but disappeared, so tightly were they pressed together; Sprout's eyebrows had risen to her hairline; even cheery little Flitwick was shaking his head slightly.

“Thank you, Headmaster, for your lovely introduction,” Umbridge said in a breathy, faux-sweet voice.

A wave of revulsion swept over Harry the second he heard her voice, so strong that it surprised even him. He didn't quite understand it; Umbridge was working for Fudge, and while Harry very much disliked him, the Minister for Magic didn't make his skin crawl like this.

“Hem, hem,” Umbridge cleared her throat again before continuing. “How lovely it is to be back at Hogwarts tonight! It brings me such joy to see so many cheerful little faces smiling up at me!”

Harry looked around at his friends, all of whom were frowning incredulously.

“Is she seeing the same crowd we are?” Daphne asked.

“Snape hasn't poisoned her already, has he?” Draco asked Harry.

“I don't think he'd do it before she's taught a single lesson,” Harry said.

“I am very excited to meet you all over the coming week! I'm sure we'll all be fast friends in no time!” Umbridge continued.

“He may have slipped her some Essence of Insanity,” Harry amended, causing much sniggering.

“Was that before or after she decided to wear that outfit?” Daphne asked.

“Even I think that's too much pink,” Pansy giggled.

Umbridge cleared her throat again. “The Ministry of Magic has always held the educating young witches and wizards to be the most noble of endeavours. Nothing can be more important than ensuring that the next magical generation has a thorough understanding of the exceptional gifts with which they have been blessed. The only way to ensure that your natural ability is refined and preserved is to subject it to thorough, careful and dedicated instruction. It is the highest of honours to be asked to come here to join such an esteemed faculty and pass on those attributes which we all hold so dear.”

Umbridge paused and bowed shallowly to the teachers lined up on either side of her. Not a single one looked remotely impressed. Harry wouldn't have been surprised to see steam issue from McGonagall's ears as she shared a grim look with Sprout. Grubbly-Plank was the only teacher who didn't seem to be seething, probably because she wasn't a permanent member of staff. Sinistra muttered something to Severus out of the corner of her mouth without either one of them taking their eyes off Umbridge.

“With the appointment of each new Head of Hogwarts, the curriculum has naturally changed slightly. Each new regime has brought with it its own shift in ideologies, though they are united by a deeply held wish to better wizarding society. The Ministry wishes Hogwarts and its staff every success in this goal. It is an understandably difficult task for so few educators to undertake, to know which of our traditions should be guarded closely and which should be forgotten as we move forwards into an ever brighter future.”

Harry found his eyes crossing as he lost focus on Umbridge. He gave his head a shake and turned to Draco, who looked just as bored as he felt.

“I think she's had lessons from Binns in how to drone on indefinitely,” Draco said.

Harry snorted and gazed around the table. Theo and Tracey had their heads bent together, occasionally whispering to each other but, like Severus and Sinistra, neither took their eyes off Umbridge. Harry craned his neck and was unsurprised to spot Hermione at the Gryffindor table, likewise fixated on Umbridge and looking increasingly angry. Back at the Slytherin table, Daphne was changing the colour of her nail polish with her wand, nail by nail, then beginning with a different colour once she finished; Pansy and Millicent were giggling together; and Blaise had pulled out some parchment and was hunched over, scribbling madly.

“ _Don't bother_ ,” Draco said when Harry craned his neck to read it. “ _He's writing in Italian; a letter to his mother, I assume_.”

Harry nodded slowly. “ _His step-dad died last week_.”

“ _Shit. I mean, I was expecting it, but..._ ”

“ _Yeah..._

Draco glanced up at the staff table where Umbridge was still going, and sighed. “ _You don't happen to have your Cloak on you, do you? We could sneak out of here, maybe go up to the top of the Astronomy Tower?_ ”

Harry grinned: there was only one reason anyone went up on the Astronomy Tower outside of class. “ _I don't, unfortunately. But we can always snog in the dorm as soon as we're finally out of here._ ”

“ _The way Umbridge is going, we'll be too old to enjoy snogging before we're let out of here,_ ” Draco grumbled.

“ _Please don't ever mention Umbridge and snogging in the same sentence again_ ,” Harry said fervently.

Draco opened his mouth to reply, then jumped when someone began clapping. He and Harry turned to see that Umbridge had finally reached the end of her speech and sat down. Dumbledore was leading the staff in a round of applause, though most teachers only managed two or three half-hearted claps before stopping and Severus hadn't bothered at all. Dumbledore again rose to his feet, but Harry didn't hear anything he said.

“We're fucked,” Theo announced.

“What?” Daphne asked, looking up from her nails, which were now painted alternating green and silver.

“She's not just a spy for the Ministry, she's going to be making sure that whatever gets taught here meets the Ministry's approval,” Theo explained.

“Is that what that speech was about?” Millicent asked.

Tracey nodded. “And I think she might be a bit prejudiced. There was a lot of talk about 'preserving our culture'.”

“From what, hideously dressed toads?” laughed Pansy. 

“Oi, Parkinson! Malfoy!”

Everyone looked up to see Darius Berrow, one of the seventh year Prefects, glaring down at them. “You two are the new Prefects, which means you have to look after the firsties. So get to it.”

“Yes, sir,” Draco said, saluting.

Darius narrowed his eyes. “All you need to do is lead them to their dormitories and tell them the password. And don't fuck it up.”

“We wouldn't dream of it,” Pansy said in a voice scarily similar to Umbridge's simper. 

Darius nodded and walked off to speak to the fourth years. Zubeida, Nerissa and Bastien were already making their way to the rest of the house.

“Password's 'aconite blossom', by the way,” Pansy said quietly, standing up along with Draco.

“Attention, first years!” he called out, walking down to the foot of the table.

Harry stood up with the rest of his friends, immediately feeling uncomfortable as people turned to stare at him. He kept his head down all the way out of the Great Hall, silently following Millicent as she led the group down to the dungeons. 

It wasn't any better inside the Slytherin common room. More than one conversation stopped when people spotted Harry walking through the room, then someone stepped in front of Harry, making him come to an abrupt stop. He looked up to see Miles glaring down at him.

“I want a word with you, Snape,” he said.

“My name's not Snape,” Harry said.

“You were adopted by him, weren't you?” Miles asked. He didn't wait for an answer before continuing. “I want to know why your daddy's kicked me off the Quidditch team.”

“You'll have to ask him that,” Harry said, trying to edge around him to the dorms.

Miles crossed his arms. “I'm asking you.”

“And I don't know,” Harry lied, knowing that it was due to Miles' abysmal grades.

Miles glowered at him for a few more seconds before nodding grudgingly. “Fine,” he growled, then walked off to rejoin his friends. 

Harry rolled his eyes and continued on his way to his dorm. Blaise and Theo were already getting changed into their pyjamas when he walked in. He started telling them about Miles as he got changed as well.

“What exactly was I supposed to do, ask Dad to change his mind?” he concluded.

“Ignore him. He wasn't that great a Keeper anyway. Maybe now we'll get someone who doesn't get distracted by a pretty girl,” Blaise said, flopping onto his bed.

“That rules out you,” Theo shot back.

“Exactly,” Blaise agreed, making them all laugh.

Harry stopped laughing when Greg walked into the room, closely followed by Vince. “Hello,” he said uncertainly.

Greg stopped, causing Vince to run into the back of him. They both blinked at Harry in confusion, then looked at each other. 

“Hi,” Greg eventually grunted, echoed by Vince.

“Have a good summer?” Harry asked.

“Yeah,” Vince said.

There was an awkward silence in the dorm during which no one moved. Then Vince nudged Greg, and they both headed to their beds without another word.

Harry turned to the others with raised eyebrows. Blaise shrugged and picked up a magazine. Theo rolled his eyes and sat down on his bed, leaving Harry to go to his own bed. He found Ladon's basket sitting on top of his trunk and pulled him out.

“ _How are you going?_ ”

“ _It's cold here_ ,” Ladon replied, curling up in Harry's palms. 

Harry reached out and picked up his wand from his bedside table, then aimed it at Ladon's basket. “ _Concaleo_ ,” he said. An orange glow briefly enveloped the basket, and when he reached out to touch it, found it distinctly warmer than room temperature. “ _Better?_ ”

Ladon slithered over to his basket and pressed himself against it. “ _Much better. Thank you_.”

“ _Anything else?_ ” Harry asked.

Ladon came back and climbed into Harry's lap. “ _Are there any trees here?_ ”

When Draco finally made it into the dorm, Harry was lying on his back on his bed, watching Ladon wind his way around the top of his bed frame. Harry had already heated the top beams with a Warming Charm, and was transfiguring them to look like branches. He had a few criss-crossing over his head, and was now trying to add leaves to them. Draco got changed and lay down next to him.

“Have fun with the firsties?” Harry asked.

“Ugh, they're so _young_ ,” Draco groaned. He raised his own wand and began to help with the leaves. “And they were far too interested in you.”

Harry sighed. “They're like that every year. It's the rest of the school that's annoying me.”

“They'll get over it. Soon enough everyone will see that you're telling the truth,” Draco said confidently.

Harry doubted that, but didn't say anything. “ _Happy with that, Ladon?_ ”

“ _Oh, yes_ ,” Ladon said, pushing through a cluster of leaves. “ _Thank you_ ”

“ _No problem_ ,” Harry said, putting his wand on his bedside table.

“Seen Crabbe and Goyle yet?” Draco asked quietly.

Harry took off his glasses and put them next to his wand. “Yeah. Didn't say much, mostly just looked confused.”

“How unusual for them,” Draco drawled. 

“This year is going to suck,” Harry said morosely.

“No, it won't,” Draco said.

“Wanna bet?” Harry asked. When Draco hesitated, he laughed humourlessly. “Didn't think so.”

“I just...”

“Don't worry. Sleep in here tonight?”

“That I can do.”


	11. In Which Harry Comes Face to Face With Umbridge

The whispers continued on the first day of classes. Harry did his best to ignore them and concentrated on drowning his pancakes in syrup. He'd woken up in a decidedly bad mood, despite Draco's comforting warmth in his bed, and had decided that copious amounts of sugar were needed.

Daphne watched him, repulsed. “My teeth hurt just looking at that.”

“Looks good to me,” Draco said, taking the syrup jug off Harry. 

Just then Severus arrived to hand out their class timetables. Harry glanced at his and groaned around his mouthful of pancake.

“What's the point of getting adopted by the Head of House if I _still_ have History of Magic first thing in the morning?” he asked.

“The point is that you may make statements such as that without getting detention from said Head of House, Mr Potter,” Severus said, moving down the table to the fourth years.

Harry laughed despite himself. “Well, today looks okay, at least.”

“Definitely no napping, though,” Pansy said gloomily. “Not with McGonagall, Snape and Flitwick.”

Pansy was more right than she knew. McGonagall never wasted time in the classroom, but today she began lecturing the class the second the door closed. One glance around the room told Harry that he wasn't the only person feeling the beginning of a panic as McGonagall spent a good fifteen minutes impressing upon them all the importance of their OWLs.

“To achieve a passing grade in your Transfiguration OWL will take serious study and practise. Anyone unwilling or unable to put in the required effort will find themselves failing the OWL and unable to continue on into my NEWT class, as I only accept students with an 'Exceeds Expectations' or higher. If you do not think yourself capable of such a feat,” she said, somehow becoming even sterner as she looked at Vince and Greg, “know now that I will not tolerate you disrupting the class and distracting those students who do wish to apply themselves.”

There was a deadly silence in the room as everyone nodded solemnly.

Warning administered, McGonagall's expression lost some of its severity. “Now, then, today we begin Vanishing Spells. These are easier than their opposite number, Conjuring Spells, but they are still amongst the most difficult magic you will be performing this year. They will assuredly feature in both the theoretical and practical components of your examinations at the end of the year.”

Harry had a moment of gratitude for Kreacher's disinclination to clean, since it meant Remus had taught him this spell to Vanish the cobwebs at Grimmauld Place. Even so, he found it difficult at first to Vanish his snail, only managing to do so halfway through the lesson. Still, it was better than what most of the class accomplished. Harry was one of only three students (the others, of course, being Tracey and Theo) who were not told to practise the spell for homework.

When the bell rang the class filed outside for their break. It was a miserable day with a fine, cold rain falling steadily, and Harry and Draco hurried over to a reasonably dry alcove.

“I hope Ladon's not too cold,” Harry said worriedly. “Warming Charms should be enough, right?”

“The elves will have lit the fireplaces as well,” Draco reassured him.

Harry was nodding when Hermione and Neville emerged from the rain to join them.

“Cheerful day, isn't it?” Neville said, gesturing up at the clouds.

“I'm more worried about our classes than the weather,” Hermione said. “Fifth year is supposed to be incredibly stressful.”

“Tell us about it. We just got a lecture about OWLs from McGonagall,” said Draco.

“At least we're brewing the Draught of Peace next lesson. You can always have some of that to relax,” Harry said.

This information did nothing to placate Hermione. “That potion's supposed to be very difficult to brew!”

“Good thing I can give you advanced warning, then,” Harry said.

Hermione merely made a vague noise of assent and rummaged through her school bag to retrieve her Potions textbook. Recognising that she wasn't going to be paying them any more attention, Harry asked Neville about his summer. He quickly regretted it when Neville began rhapsodising about the Mimbulus mimbletonia, a rare Assyrian plant that he'd gotten for his birthday. Harry's interest in plants didn't extend much further than their use in Potions, so it didn't take long for Neville to begin boring him.

Harry turned to find Draco looking distinctly annoyed with him and shrugged apologetically. Draco rolled his eyes but didn't say anything. Instead, he gave an overly pronounced shiver and wrapped his arms around Harry. For his part, Harry snuggled up to his boyfriend, finding Draco's embrace greatly increased his tolerance for hearing about the Mimbulus mimbletonia's disgusting sap defence.

Even so, Harry was relieved when the bell finally rang and they could make their way back into the castle for Potions. The four of them lined up outside the Potions classroom with the rest of the class. Harry could tell that the Gryffindors were whispering about him but wasn't concerned, knowing that they'd shut up as soon as Severus arrived.

Sure enough, silence fell up on the class when the door opened and they trooped inside. Harry sat down in the front row between Hermione and Draco, happy to get to a class where he felt more confident about the subject matter.

Severus shut the door, stalked over to his desk and turned to regard the room with a billowing of his robes. “I will begin today's lesson shortly, but first, a warning you will do well to heed. In June, you will all sit an important examination to determine just how much knowledge you have managed to absorb in this subject, and to demonstrate that you are capable of utilising said knowledge in the brewing of potions. I do not delude myself into thinking that all – or, indeed, most – of you will achieve the marks necessary to advance into my NEWT level classes, but I do expect you all to pass Potions this year or face my disapprobation.”

Knowing for a fact that Severus had already written off Vince and Greg's chances, Harry had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing at the lie. Something must have shown on his face, though, because when Severus met his gaze he narrowed his eyes infinitesimally before continuing his speech.

“This is the last year during which I shall have to teach many of you -” here Severus' gaze lingered on the Gryffindor side of the room “- as so many of you will undoubtedly be unwilling or unable to continue this subject next year. However, I have come to expect a high number of passing grades amongst my OWL students, and so you will focus what talents you do possess on maintaining that success rate.”

Just like during Transfiguration, the class nodded in tense silence. Harry wondered if the rest of his teachers were planning on using the spectre of the OWLs to terrify their classes into academic excellence.

“Today you will be brewing the Draught of Peace, an extremely complex and subtle potion. Unfortunately for you, it often shows up on the OWL examinations. If brewed correctly, this potion will dispel any stress or anxiety the drinker may be experiencing. If brewed incorrectly, this potion will put the drinker into a deep and sometimes incurable sleep. I suggest you therefore pay close attention to the ingredients and method, which are on the board,” Severus said, flicking his wand. Another flick opened the storeroom door. “Everything you require is in there. You have an hour and a half.”

Severus hadn't been exaggerating the intricacy of the potion. Harry had spent more than a few days in the barn at home, helping Severus brew complicated potions, and even he had to double-check a step or two on occasion. He managed to complete everything correctly however, even the orientation of his stirring, something this potion was particularly finicky about.

When there was ten minutes left in the lesson Severus stopped prowling around the room to return to his desk. “There should now be a light silver vapour rising from your cauldrons,” he called out.

Harry grinned into his cauldron, which was as described, then glanced to his sides. Draco's vapour was a little darker than his own but definitely still silver, and Hermione's was unsurprisingly perfect. On her other side he could see Neville panicking over his own cauldron. Harry leaned around Hermione and saw that Neville's potion was the consistency of jelly and thickening visibly.

“You need to add more chamomile,” Harry whispered to him.

Neville sagged in relief and nodded. Harry straightened up in his seat, only to find Severus watching him. Harry gave what he hoped was a winning smile and bent to ladle his finished potion into a bottle to be tested. When he took it up to Severus' desk, he was stopped by an upraised finger.

“At least try and be less overt when helping another student cheat in my class,” Severus said quietly.

“Sorry, D – sir,” Harry said.

Severus nodded approvingly and Harry scampered back to his seat to wait for the end of class.

“Bring your clearly labelled flagons up here to be tested,” Severus said more loudly. “For homework I want a twelve inch essay on the properties of moonstone and its use in potions, due Thursday.”

There was a bit of excitement when, as he tried to bottle his potion, Greg's flagon shattered and set his robes alight. Severus calmly extinguished the flames and sent Greg to the infirmary to get treated for burns. After such an end to the lesson, Charms seemed almost boring that afternoon, though Flitwick did give the class yet another lecture on OWLs and set them another essay.

That evening the fifth years, with the exception of Greg and Vince, gathered in the common room to work on their essays together.

“So. Moonstone. What's it do?” Pansy asked, looking at Harry.

He was discomfited to see everyone else watching him, too. “Why are you all staring at _me_? They're the swots,” he said, pointing at Tracey and Theo.

“And you're the son of the Potions teacher. Better get used to this, Potter,” Theo replied.

“Fine, but someone else is taking care of our Charms essay,” Harry said. Everyone nodded. “Right, okay, moonstone. Well, it's usually used ground up, which is fine if you need it powdery, but if you need it coarse it's pretty easy to over-grind it 'cause it's so fragile...”

********

  
Tuesday's classes were less stressful than Monday's had been; Harry only got one lecture about OWLs.

Harry hadn't done any real work for Divination, his first class, in the two years he'd been taking it, and neither he, Pansy nor Daphne felt any need to start now. Trelawney only mentioned the OWL exams to say how little she felt they mattered in Divination. The class was asked to read the introduction in _The Dream Oracle_ before using the book to interpret each other's dreams. Pansy had Harry and Daphne in convulsions of silent laughter as she began describing in graphic detail a dream she'd had about the starting line-ups of both the Caerphilly Caterpillars and the Holyhead Harpies. Trelawney wandered over and turned scarlet when she realised what Pansy was talking about.

“Miss Parkinson, that is not a topic fit for my classroom!” she said.

Pansy looked up with a puzzled expression. “Which part, the pineapple, the birthday cake or the Beater's bats?”

“All of it!” Trelawney snapped.

Pansy shrugged. “But that's what I dreamed about last night. Should I just not do any work today?”

Trelawney blinked at her, then shook her head. “You are a depraved young woman, Miss Parkinson.”

Pansy beamed as Trelawney moved over to question Vince.

“Just how much of that was true?” Harry asked.

Pansy's smile turned wicked. “You really want to know?”

Harry and Daphne shared a glance. “No.”

After their morning break they joined the rest of the fifth year Slytherins for Herbology, which they were again sharing with the Ravenclaws. Harry made his way to his usual table with Draco, where they joined Padma and Morag. The girls had been talking quietly, but shut up when the boys arrived. Harry swallowed a sigh and prepared himself for a class of being stared at.

“ _Just ignore them_ ,” Draco told him.

“ _Easy for you to say, you're the not the one everyone's talking about_ ,” Harry replied.

“You know, it's really rather rude the way you two do that,” Morag said.

“It's really rather rude for you two to be talking about Harry like that,” Draco snapped back. “At least have the guts to call him a liar to his face.”

Padma blushed, but Morag narrowed her eyes. “I was telling Padma why I believe you, actually.”

Harry shook his head, unsure he'd heard correctly. “You what?”

“I believe you. About You-Know-Who,” Morag said.

Harry stared at her. “Thanks,” he said belatedly.

She shrugged. “It's a weird thing to make up, if you were lying. Only a lunatic would lie about something like that. You're a little weird but you're not crazy.”

“Thanks,” Harry said drily.

“But you think he's lying?” Draco asked Padma sharply.

“I...”

“Padma has decided that all Slytherins are lying scumbags because Zabini ditched her over summer,” Morag said.

Padma glared at her. “He didn't _ditch_ me. Kind of hard to ditch someone when you stop speaking to them entirely.”

Morag rolled her eyes. “Still has the same result.”

“His step-dad died over the holidays,” Harry said quietly.

“What?” asked Padma. She craned her neck to see where Blaise was sharing a table with Theo, Tracey and Daphne.

“Don't look!” Draco hissed.

“Sorry,” she muttered, turning back to their table.

“He didn't even tell Theo about that until we were on the Hogwarts Express,” Harry continued.

“I had no idea,” Padma murmured. 

They stopped talking then since Sprout had just walked into the greenhouse, but Harry could feel Padma's eyes on him for the rest of the lesson. 

“That went well,” Draco said brightly as they headed up to the castle for lunch. “I'm fairly certain Padma believes you now.”

“True,” Harry agreed. “But Blaise can't date the entire world, no matter how hard he works at it. Most people aren't going to just change their minds like Padma.”

Draco hummed thoughtfully. “We'll think of something.”

********

  
The weather was still gloomy and slightly drizzly after lunch, when Harry had Care of Magical Creatures. Coupled with Hagrid's continued absence, he really wasn't looking forward to the lesson. His outlook wasn't improved by the grim expression Hermione was wearing when she caught up to him and Draco to walk down to Hagrid's.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Have you had a Defence class yet?” she asked.

“No, we've got ours on Thursday and Friday. Why?” Harry asked.

“Because that Umbridge woman is absolutely useless!” Hermione said.

Both boys jumped slightly at her vehemence.

“What happened?” asked Draco.

“Nothing,” Hermione said.

“Doesn't sound like nothing,” Harry said.

“No, I mean nothing happened during class. Nor will it: the entire year is to be purely theoretical,” Hermione said scathingly.

“What?” yelped Harry.

Draco caught his hand and squeezed it. “She can't do that.”

“We won't be using defensive spells until our practical exam,” Hermione said.

Harry was so shocked he didn't say anything for the rest of their walk. They soon joined the rest of the class outside Hagrid's cabin, where Grubbly-Plank had set up a trestle table covered in bits of twigs. Harry stood there numbly as Grubbly-Plank informed the class that the twigs were actually tiny tree-guardians called Bowtruckles.

“I want you all to sketch a Bowtruckle and label all its body parts by the end of the lesson. There are enough Bowtruckles for you to work in groups of three. Make sure to take a handful of woodlice to keep them happy,” Grubbly-Plank told them.

Harry, Hermione and Draco quickly picked up a Bowtruckle and carried it to a drier patch of grass away from the rest of class so they could talk without being overheard.

“Let me get this straight,” Draco said, putting the Bowtruckle on the ground. “The Dark Lord's back and now we have a Defence teacher who's refusing to let us practise defensive magic?”

“Yes,” Hermione said. She threw some woodlice onto the ground, where the Bowtruckle immediately pounced on them. “I've no idea how Dumbledore could let this happen, especially not this year.”

“He didn't have a choice,” Harry said fairly.

Hermione frowned. “What do you mean?”

“He couldn't find anyone for the job. Dad told me.”

Draco grinned. “Pansy was right. I love all the insider knowledge you're getting now. Continue.”

“Well, you know the rumours about the job being jinxed. Dad doesn't believe in it, but McGonagall does, so there might be some truth to it... Anyway, Dumbledore couldn't find anyone willing to risk it, so the Ministry stepped in. Fudge passed some Educational Decree thingy which makes it so that the Minister for Magic can appoint teachers here if the Headmaster can't,” Harry summarised.

“He just happened to pass this Decree whilst he and Dumbledore are fighting, did he?” Hermione asked.

Harry snorted. “Yeah, Dad said it's suss as hell, but there's nothing Dumbledore can do.”

Hermione glared down at the Bowtruckle like it was personally responsible. “We have to do something.”

“We do?” asked Draco.

Hermione's head snapped up. “Of course we do! We can't let them win!”

“She can't be that bad, surely,” Draco said weakly.

“Talk to me after you've had a class with her,” Hermione said darkly.

********

  
When the class entered the Defence room on Thursday, Harry and Draco made for the back row by unspoken agreement. Theo joined them; evidently the memory of the way Crouch had treated them last year was still fresh in his mind. Tracey tagged along with him; the other girls sat in the middle of the room with Blaise, leaving Greg and Vince alone in the front row. The unusual seating arrangement was off-putting enough to Harry, without the added prospect of a Ministry spy teaching them.

Umbridge was already seated at her desk, looking even more toad-like up close. She watched silently as the class got settled in their seats. “Good afternoon, class!” she eventually said. When she received an unintelligible mumble in response, she tsked. “Now, now, where are your manners? When I greet you, I expect you all to reply with 'Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge'. So. Good afternoon, class!”

“Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge,” came the sullen response.

“ _Much_ better,” Umbridge said, smiling widely.

Harry suppressed a shudder at the sight. He looked around to see Draco's lip curled in disdain.

“Wands away and quills out, please,” Umbridge continued.

A sigh ran around the room at the order; those words never heralded an interesting lesson. Umbridge pulled her own wand out of her handbag (Harry noticed with a smirk that it was almost comically short) and tapped the blackboard. Words flew across it:

  
_Defence Against the Dark Arts_  
_A Return to Basic Principles_  


Umbridge clasped her hands together and gazed around at them all. “I was most distressed when I learned just how haphazard your teaching has been thus far in this subject. Due to the constant changing of teachers you have not been able to experience the coherent instruction necessary for you to be at the standard we would expect by now.”

There was some angry whispering from Harry's left as Theo and Tracey objected to being told they were academically sub-standard.

Umbridge ignored them. “Luckily for you, I am here to teach you all everything you need to know to pass your OWL year. We shall be following a theory-based, rigidly structured course that has been wholeheartedly approved by the Ministry. Please copy down the following course aims.”

She hit the blackboard again and new words replaced the old.

  
_1\. Understanding the principles underlying defensive magic._  
_2\. Learning to recognise situations in which defensive magic can legally be used._  
_3\. Placing the use of defensive magic in a context for practical use._  


All around him, people began to grudgingly copy this out. Harry instead put his hand into the air. Umbridge promptly turned her head away. Not for nothing, however, was Harry continually told how stubborn he was; he didn't lower his hand. After a couple of minutes he saw Draco put down his quill and raise his own hand.

Umbridge reluctantly looked at him. “Did you have a question, Mr...?”

“Malfoy. No, I don't, but Harry does.”

“Well, we're writing down the course aims just now, dear,” Umbridge told him, giving another sickening smile.

“My question's about the course aims,” Harry said loudly.

Umbridge finally looked at him. “Have you written them down, Mr...?”

There was widespread sniggering at this; the class had never before had a teacher claim not to know who Harry was. 

“Potter.”

“Well, Mr Potter,” Umbridge said, smiling again, “I asked you to write down the course aims, not question them.”

“I just wanted to know if it's true that we're not going to be actually performing any defensive spells this year,” Harry said.

“That was a statement, not a question, Mr Potter,” Umbridge replied. Instantly, Theo and Tracey's hands shot into the air, causing Umbridge to sigh. “Yes, Miss...?”

“Miss Davis,” Tracey said. “Is it true that we're not going to be actually performing any defensive spells this year?”

“There will be no need to do so, Miss Davis,” Umbridge said. “And your name?”

Theo put his hand down. “Nott. How can you say we don't need to perform defensive magic? This is pretty much the worst time for us to not be practising those spells!”

Umbridge tilted her head. “I understand your anxiety about your OWLs, but if you study the theory properly, you will have no trouble performing any of the required spells during your examination.”

“I wasn't talking about the exam!” Theo cried.

“Your hand wasn't up,” Umbridge said.

When Theo put his hand back up, Umbridge turned away from him, only to be confronted with Millicent's raised hand.

“Miss Bulstrode,” she said without prompting. “All of our other professors have taught us how to perform the magic over the course of the year.”

“They may have done so, Miss Bulstrode, but I will not be following their lead. I am a Ministry appointed educator and you will find me to be very different from the disorganised wizards who have taught you so far – especially the dangerous half-breed.”

Harry stood up angrily. “Don't talk about Remus like that!”

Umbridge's eyes gleamed. “Five points from Slytherin, Mr Potter, and sit back down. Are you suggesting that werewolves are not dangerous?”

“He was the best teacher we've had in this subject,” Harry said through gritted teeth, making no move to sit down again.

“And yet since his resignation he has been unable to find new employment. Odd, surely, if he is as capable as you say he is,” Umbridge said.

“The only reason he's unemployed is because the Ministry wrote a law making it incredibly hard for any werewolf to -”

“Mr Potter,” Umbridge cut in, losing her sweet tone, “this is a Defence Against the Dark Arts class, not a political debate. Now, as I was saying, studying the theory will allow you to pass your examination in June. That is all you need to know – what's your name?”

Pansy lowered her hand slowly. “Parkinson. What happens if we get attacked before then? Shouldn't we know how to defend ourselves?”

“No one is going to be attacking you, dear,” Umbridge said.

Harry couldn't help laughing at that. “I think Voldemort might have other ideas about that.”

There was a collective intake of breath at the name, and everyone turned to stare at Harry. Umbridge ignored them all; she looked almost happy at this turn of events. “Another ten points from Slytherin, Mr Potter.”

“Wow, a whole ten points!” Harry said sarcastically. “Doesn't really have the same effect after having been personally tortured by Voldemort!”

“That is a lie,” Umbridge said over the sound of yet more gasps.

“No, it's not,” Theo said, also getting to his feet.

“Mr Nott, sit back down and do not encourage Mr Potter in his lies! Unless, of course, you have someone else who can back him up?” 

The smile Umbridge gave Harry and Theo was so smug that Harry's fists clenched involuntarily.

“Actually, I do,” Theo said calmly.

Umbridge's mouth opened and shut before she found her voice. “You do?”

“My father was there. So were theirs,” Theo said, pointing at Vince and Greg, who looked more confused than usual at what was going on around them.

Umbridge recovered her composure. “Mr Nott, whatever domestic squabbles you may be having with your father -”

“You mean the domestic squabble where he beat me half unconscious and locked me in my room?” Theo asked dangerously.

Judging from the horrified expressions coming from Daphne, Millicent and Pansy, Harry could tell that none of them had known what had happened to Theo over the summer. 

“Mr Nott, this is not the venue in which to discuss your father's disciplinary actions! I don't know why he may have felt you needed a firm hand -”

“A firm hand? Theo was black and blue when he arrived at my house in the middle of the night!” Draco cried angrily.

“Mr Malfoy -”

“Theo's dad did what he did because Voldemort told him he doesn't want Theo being friends with me. He told their dads that, too -” Harry pointed at Greg and Vince “- which is why they're not talking to the rest of us! Voldemort threatened them all. How much more proof do you need?”

Umbridge glared at him. “Mr Potter, the Dark Lord has not returned from the dead!”

“He has though!” Harry shouted furiously. “And the longer the Ministry lies and says he hasn't, the stronger he gets – and the more stupid the Ministry's going to look when you have to admit that you've all been lying about it!”

“If it's not all a conspiracy and the Ministry's in league with him,” Theo said snidely.

“Mr Nott, there is no -”

“Don't be ridiculous, they're too stupid to plot a conspiracy,” Draco said contemptuously.

“Mr Malfoy!”

“Yeah, but Fudge is pretty power hungry,” Pansy said.

“Enough to join You-Know-Who?” asked Millicent.

“It'd explain a lot,” Blaise said.

“That bright green hat of his, for a start,” Daphne chimed in. “You have to be evil to think _that_ is a good look.”

“ENOUGH!” Umbridge shouted. “Fifty points from Slytherin for this – this – this _insubordination!_ I had some trouble with some other classes but had expected better from Slytherin! Mr Potter and Mr Nott, get up here this instant!”

Harry and Theo trudged up to the front of the once again silent room. Umbridge took a piece of garishly pink parchment out of her handbag and began writing furiously on it. Harry glanced at Theo, who looked just as angry as he himself felt, then at the rest of the class, who were all watching with wide eyes. 

“Take this to Professor Snape at once,” Umbridge said.

Harry jerked back around to see her seal the parchment with her wand and hold it up. Theo took it off her and they both walked to the back of the room to collect their things. 

“Hurry along, dears,” Umbridge called. “Now, as for the rest of you: if I hear a single peep out of any of you, the perpetrator will be joining those two in detention. Do I make myself clear?”

Harry shut the door on the angry agreement of the class, slamming it far harder than was strictly necessary.

“Fucking bitch,” Theo spat. “I almost miss Crouch.”

“He might've been a Death Eater but at least he let us use our wands,” Harry said.

“Wonder what she's written?” Theo asked, holding the parchment up to a window and squinting through it.

“Dad'll probably tell us,” Harry said, beginning to walk to the dungeons. 

They fell silent then, and didn't speak for the rest of the way down. Harry knocked on the classroom door.

“Enter.”

They walked in on the middle of a seventh year class. Only one or two students looked up; most were too busy feverishly stirring their potions or chopping up ingredients to notice Harry and Theo as they sullenly made their way up to Severus' desk.

Severus frowned at them. “You better have a good reason for not being in class. I know for a fact that you do not have a free period at this time.”

Theo held out the pink parchment. “We got sent to see you.”

Severus snatched the parchment off him, opened it with his wand, and read it quickly. Harry watched his eyebrows draw closer and closer together as he read Umbridge's note. When he got to the end he paused for a second, nostrils flaring, before he looked up.

“Go and wait for me in my office. I will be along when this class is finished,” he said.

Harry nodded miserably and left, Theo trailing at his heels. The office door swung open at Harry's touch as if it had been expecting them, though there were no chairs arranged in front of the desk. Harry paced up and down, still simmering with rage. Theo was calmer, merely crossing his arms and glowering down at the floor.

They both tensed when the bell rang, but relaxed after a few minutes had passed and Severus hadn't arrived.

“Guess he's got a double,” Harry muttered.

“I guess so,” Theo replied

Harry made to resume pacing, then stopped himself. “Sorry for dragging you into this. I know it must've been hard to talk about what your dad did to you.”

Theo smiled bitterly. “There's no point denying it happened, is there? At least mentioning it shut her up for a split second.”

“It was pretty great,” Harry said, smirking faintly.

It was more than half an hour before Severus finally arrived. Both Harry and Theo jumped when the door burst open. Severus stalked over to stand behind his desk, leaving the boys to scramble to stand in front of it.

“I thought I told you what Umbridge was, Harry,” Severus said quietly.

“You did,” Harry confirmed.

“And that I told you to be careful around her.”

“That too.”

“So then _why_ am I holding this?” Severus snapped, waving the pink parchment in the air.

Guilt coiled in Harry's stomach. “I just had some questions and things got a bit, er, heated.”

“Heated?” Severus held out the parchment with a flourish. “It says here you deliberately disobeyed her from the second class began.”

“Not the _very_ second. And I put my hand up when she told me to,” Harry said weakly.

Severus raised an unimpressed eyebrow. “The two of you then interrogated her about her course aims?”

“We only asked if we were going to be allowed to perform defensive spells during class, which we aren't!” Harry protested.

“You called her and the rest of the Ministry liars and insulted their collective intelligence,” Severus continued. “You then both incited the rest of the class to join you in displaying gross disrespect towards a member of staff -”

“They all chose to join in!” said Harry.

“- leaving her no choice but to take a further fifty house points from the class – on top of the fifteen you'd already lost by yourself, Harry – and write me _this_ ,” Severus concluded, setting the parchment on fire with his wand.

“You didn't hear what she was saying, Dad!” Harry cried. “She said I was a liar for saying Voldemort's back and that Theo's dad didn't do anything wrong! _And_ she insulted Remus.”

“What exactly did you expect her to say about the Dark Lord? Of course she's going to deny his return!” Severus said in exasperation. His frown lessened somewhat and he turned to Theo. “I do not deny that for her to brush aside what your father did shows an appalling lack of basic human decency.”

“Thank you, sir,” Theo said quietly.

Severus' frown returned. “Which only goes to show what sort of person you are dealing with! She's given you both detention every night next week.”

“But -”

“Don't bother, Harry. She's your teacher and has every right to punish you for how you behaved in her classroom,” Severus said.

Harry slumped a bit. “Okay.”

“You're also grounded for the weekend,” Severus added.

“What?” Harry yelped.

“You will come to my quarters after dinner on Friday night. You will stay there until dinner on Sunday night. Understood?”

“Yes, Dad,” Harry grumbled. 

He glanced over and saw Theo smirking. So did Severus.

“I shall be writing to Narcissa about you, Theodore,” he said.

Theo gulped. “Yes, sir.”

“Why?” asked Harry.

“She's acting as my guardian until I come of age,” Theo explained.

Harry nodded. Being grounded didn't seem so bad, now.

Severus leaned forwards with his hands resting on the desktop. “Listen very carefully. I do not want a repeat of today's performance. Umbridge is working for the Ministry. She will be pushing the Ministry's propaganda, which directly attacks you, Harry, and you indirectly, Theodore. _You need to ignore this_. I don't care what she says. You know it's not true. I know it's not true. Most of your class knows it's not true. Nothing you can possibly say will change Umbridge's mind, so do not even try. It would be a foolish, futile endeavour, and could have more dire results than detention.”

“But what about class, sir? We do need to practise actual spells,” Theo objected.

“Does it need to be during class? Are you incapable of using your wand in the common room or your dormitory?” Severus asked.

A slow grin spread over Harry's face. “No.”

“Exactly. Blunt force and anger will achieve nothing with this woman. You need to be subtle, sneaky, and smart,” Severus said pointedly.

“So, act like Slytherins and not Gryffindors?” Harry asked.

“Essentially, yes,” Severus confirmed. “Now get upstairs to dinner.”

Pansy had clearly been busy. By the time Harry and Theo entered the Great Hall, the news of their shouting match with Umbridge had made the rounds of the student body. Whispers broke out as they walked up the aisle between tables, and people stopped eating in order to stare at them.

“So this is what it's like to be you, huh?” Theo muttered out of the side of his mouth as he and Harry hurried up the aisle to join their friends.

“Pretty much,” Harry said, sliding onto the bench next to Draco.

“What happened?” Draco asked.

“Week's worth of detention with Umbridge. I'm grounded for the weekend and Dad's writing to your mum about Theo,” Harry said, helping himself to some steak and kidney pie.

“Snape basically just told us not to get caught,” Theo added.

Tracey frowned. “Caught doing what, exactly?”

Theo grinned malevolently. “Getting revenge.”


	12. In Which Harry and Theo are Punished

Harry managed to keep quiet in his next lesson with Umbridge. The class was once again ordered to read from the textbook for the duration of the lesson, though Harry didn't actually retain a single word he'd read. Coupled with History of Magic after lunch, it was an incredibly boring end to the school week. Harry wasn't the only person yawning at dinner.

“Anyone up for poker tonight?” Blaise asked, once they were back in the dorm. “Millicent was looking to set up a game.”

“Sounds good,” Draco said, then winced. “Sorry, Harry.”

Harry just shrugged. “I'll be fine. You guys have fun.”

“Oh, we will. Especially if Pansy and Millicent decide to get all touchy feely with each other,” Blaise said, leering.

Draco looked at Harry. “Can I be grounded too?”

“Don't think so,” Harry laughed, beginning to pack what he'd need for the next two days.

“That really doesn't interest you at all?” Blaise asked Draco, frowning curiously.

“What, Pansy and Millicent groping each other? No,” Draco said. He sat down on Harry's bed, patting Ladon while Harry shoved his pyjamas into his bag. “What are you going to do?”

“With Dad? Dunno. Probably more bloody Occlumency,” Harry said heavily.

“Take your Cloak and sneak back here once he's gone to bed,” Draco suggested.

“Are you mental? He'd kill me!” Harry said incredulously. He put the last of his homework into his bag and sat down on the bed, sliding over to Draco. “I'll see you Sunday,” he said, leaning forward to kiss him.

Draco ran a hand into Harry's hair and kissed him back. “See you then,” he said when they finally parted.

Harry held out his hand for Ladon to wind himself around his wrist, shouldered his backpack and walked out, calling out a farewell to Theo and Blaise. In the corridor to the common room he came across Millicent, Pansy and Daphne on their way to the dorm. 

“If you feel like cleaning out Blaise tonight, try snogging in front of him. Should distract him nicely,” Harry said. 

Pansy beamed. “Sounds like a plan. Milly?”

Millicent considered this. “Should work. Thanks.”

“No problem.”

“And what am I supposed to do?” Daphne asked.

“I have complete faith in your ability to distract Blaise,” Pansy said drily.

Harry snorted and started walking again. He was soon standing in the secret passageway outside Severus' quarters, frowning at the stone wall and trying to remember which stone Severus had pressed to make the door reveal itself. He reached out and pressed his hand to what looked like the correct stone. Nothing happened. He tried the one next to it.

“You were correct the first time,” Severus said.

Harry jumped slightly, not having heard Severus walk up behind him. “Then where's the door?”

“It will only appear if the guard stone recognises you,” Severus said. He traced his wand around the stone in a complicated pattern. “Place your hand upon it.”

Harry did so again. This time, the stone glowed faintly purple for a few seconds, then faded back to normal. Harry took his hand away and the door shimmered into view. “Cool.”

Severus opened the door and led him inside. “You may now come here anytime you like.”

“Even when I should be in Defence classes?” Harry asked from the doorway.

Severus shot him a withering look. “No. Though I assume from the fact that Umbridge didn't complain about you at dinner that you managed to behave yourself today.”

“Didn't say a word,” Harry promised.

“Good. Keep it up,” Severus said, walking into the kitchen. “Tea?”

“Er, okay,” said Harry.

A few minutes later Severus walked back into the lounge carrying the tea tray. He stopped and frowned when he saw Harry still standing near the doorway. “Are you waiting for a written invitation?”

“I don't know what I'm supposed to do. I've never been grounded before,” Harry explained.

“Whatever you want to do within these quarters,” Severus said.

Harry waited for the catch, confused when Severus merely resumed walking into the lounge room. “No, but, don't I have to do chores or something?”

Realisation dawned in Severus' eyes. “Not apart from tidying up after yourself. Your grounding means you cannot spend time with your friends, so no flying or sneaking around after curfew. I don't particularly care what you get up to apart from completing your homework.”

“Seriously, that's it?” Harry asked, finally walking over to the couch.

“Seriously,” Severus said, putting the tray on the coffee table.

“Not much of a punishment, is it? It's just like being at home,” Harry said.

“It's rather less sunny here, though the Occlumency lessons will continue,” said Severus.

“Occlumency? I knew there was a catch,” Harry grumbled.

Severus poured himself a cup of tea. “If it makes any difference, I'm going to begin teaching you to create your mental barrier tonight. You may find that easier than clearing your mind.”

“Maybe,” Harry said doubtfully. He held his arm down to the floor for Ladon to drop down. “ _You want me to light a fire for you?_ ”

“ _Yes, please_ ,” Ladon said.

Harry pointed his wand at the fireplace. “ _Incendio_.”

“ _Thank you_ ,” Ladon said as the flames appeared. He slithered over to the hearth, made himself comfortable, and gazed around the room curiously.

“So,” Harry said, pouring his own cup of tea, “how's everyone else doing with Umbridge? My class can't have been the only one to hate her.”

Severus snorted. “No, though you are the only class to have called her a liar and implied that the Ministry was working with the Dark Lord. The first years are the only year level about whom she has not complained. Most classes have expressed some form of discontentment with her now infamous course aims. The seventh year class has already sought an audience with the Headmaster to protest not being allowed to use magic in class, which is close to the worst thing they could do.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean we have had word from our sources within the Ministry explaining why Umbridge is so adamant your education is to be purely theoretical,” Severus said, then sighed. “Fudge thinks Dumbledore is training the student body as his own private army, intending to wrest power away from the Ministry.”

Harry blinked at him for a long moment before bursting into laughter. “What? That's – no, you're joking.”

“I wish that were the case,” Severus said.

Harry's laughter died. “Fudge really thinks Dumbledore's going to use us to fight the Ministry? That makes no sense! It's terrible strategy, for a start! Have they _seen_ some of the idiots at this school?”

“I did not say it's a likely eventuality, but it's what Fudge believes,” Severus said heavily.

“Wow, okay, that's insane,” Harry said. “What about the other teachers? What do they think about her?”

“We all loathe her, but at this stage, there's nothing we can do about her,” Severus said sourly.

“You could poison her,” suggested Harry.

“Yes, because I wouldn't immediately be the main suspect for that course of action,” Severus drawled.

“You could feed her to the Acromantula. Hagrid's not here, so he couldn't get blamed for it...”

“Be serious.”

“Who said I'm joking?” Harry asked.

Severus rolled his eyes and Summoned a stack of essays. “Try not to get caught during your assassination attempts.”

“Will do,” Harry said, pulling his Herbology homework out of his backpack.

They worked in silence for an hour or so, until Severus handed Harry his moonstone essay. There was a large “O” written at the top.

“You'll be getting all your homework marked with OWL gradings this year,” explained Severus.

“And this is good?” Harry asked.

“It's excellent. Maintain this level of work and you'll pass your Potions OWL easily,” Severus said.

Harry grinned. “Cheers.”

“Have you nearly completed that essay?”

Harry looked down at his parchment. “Yeah, I just need to add what Sprout told us about Self-Fertilising Shrubs flowering more when a certain planet's in retrograde, but I can't remember which one she said it was.”

“Saturn,” Severus said at once.

“Thanks,” Harry said, writing that down quickly. He looked up to see Severus smirking. “You're going to use this to argue that I should be taking Astronomy next year, aren't you.”

Severus raised an eyebrow. “Would I do that?”

“Yes,” Harry muttered, then pointed his wand at his essay. “ _Assicco_.”

Severus merely chuckled as Harry rolled up his now dry essay. 

“Okay, let's get it over with,” Harry said in resignation.

Severus refilled his cup. “Do you still plan on using flying as your defence?”

“Yeah, unless you can think of something better.”

“No, I believe this will be the most effective method for you. Alright. Clear your mind.”

Harry took a deep breath and let it out slowly, gazing blankly at Severus.

“Good,” Severus whispered. “Now, shut your eyes. Imagine you're flying on your broomstick. It doesn't matter where or why, just that you're in the air.”

Harry opened his eyes. “How am I supposed to imagine that and keep my mind clear?” he asked, in the oddly thick voice he usually got while Occluding.

“Magic,” Severus replied. “Close your eyes again.”

Harry did as he was told and tried to imagine flying on his Firebolt. This was easier said than done, however. With his mind cleared, he was able to think, but visually imagining something proved to be far more difficult. By the time Severus instructed him to stop, all Harry had managed to do was imagine a vague feeling of weightlessness – and to give himself a headache. Severus silently handed him a vial of pain reliever.

“Thanks,” Harry said. He lay his head against the back of the couch as the pain began to ebb. “I thought you said this was going to be easier than learning to clear my mind.”

“I said it may,” Severus corrected him. “Clearly I was mistaken.”

“Let me guess: I just need to practise more?” Harry asked.

“See? You are learning something.”

Harry groaned.

********

  
Harry found that, apart from the Occlumency lessons, he quite enjoyed being grounded. Severus really hadn't been exaggerating when he said he didn't care what Harry did over the weekend. He did complete his homework, but he also explored Severus' quarters with Ladon in tow. Their greatest discovery (at least in Harry's opinion) was Severus' ancient wireless, which led to Harry spending Saturday afternoon listening to a Quidditch program.

He slept on the couch, transfigured each night into a bed by Severus. It may not have sounded that great, given that Severus tended to stay up late grading homework, but compared to the sounds of the dormitory Harry usually shared with five other boys, the quiet scratching of Severus' quill was rather soothing.

That said, he was happy when it got to dinner time on Sunday and he was allowed to join his friends. 

“You've been released from prison!” Draco said happily when Harry sat down at the table.

“Miss me?” Harry asked.

“Mmm hmm,” Draco said, kissing Harry.

“Some of us are trying to eat here,” Millicent said.

“After that poker game on Friday night I don't think you're in any position to complain about someone snogging in front of you,” Draco shot back.

Harry watched in amusement as both Millicent and Pansy turned pink. “Took my advice, did you?”

“Worked brilliantly,” Pansy said, smirking through her blush.

“You sneaky fucking bastard,” Blaise said to Harry, trying to glower but unable to fully suppress a smile. “You put them up to it?”

Harry just smirked back. “I don't think they minded too much.”

“You kidding? I won a fortune!” Pansy said gleefully.

“Glad to be of use,” Millicent said drily.

“Oh, I found you _very_ useful.”

“Cheers.”

“I didn't mean it like that,” Pansy said quickly.

“Uh huh,” Millicent said, getting to her feet and striding out of the hall.

“Milly!” Pansy hurried after her.

Harry watched them guiltily. “I didn't mean for that to happen.”

“They won't mind,” Blaise said confidently.

“What do you mean?” Tracey asked.

Blaise shrugged. “They like to fight and make up. Haven't you noticed that?” 

He was met with five blank stares.

Blaise sighed. “You guys are all hopeless. I would've expected more from you, Greengrass.”

Daphne looked startled. “Me? Why?”

“You're almost as good a flirt as I am, surely you should be better at reading people by now?”

“I... I don't flirt with girls,” said Daphne.

“Shame,” Blaise said.

Daphne rolled her eyes and turned her back on him.

When he walked into the common room with Draco after dinner, Harry had to admit that Blaise definitely seemed to know what he was talking about. Millicent was lying on one of the couches with Pansy draped on top of her, snogging as if their lives depended on it.

“Some of us just ate!” Draco called.

Pansy extricated a hand and gave him the finger without raising her head.

“Classy, Parkinson!” he called back.

“Leave them alone,” Harry said impatiently, heading for the dorm.

Draco held up two fingers at the girls but followed Harry.

“You're such a spoilsport sometimes,” he muttered as they walked into the dorm.

Harry laughed as he glanced around the room. “No, I'm not.”

“Then why did you drag me away? I was about to hit them both with a Tickling Charm!” Draco said, pouting as he sat down on his bed.

“Because, you git, I wanted to do this,” Harry said.

He climbed onto the bed and pulled the curtains shut. Draco raised his head just as Harry moved forward on his knees. He planted his hands on either side of Draco and leaned in to kiss him. He felt Draco smile against his lips. The next thing he knew, Draco had grasped both of Harry's shoulders and pulled him down on top of himself as he fell backwards onto the mattress.

“Definitely not a spoilsport,” he said, breaking the kiss for a moment.

“And don't you forget it,” Harry said.

********

  
Harry woke up happy and content on Monday morning, nestled up against Draco in his warm bed. His good mood lasted precisely thirty seconds, until he remembered that tonight was the first of his detentions with Umbridge.

His mood only worsened when he sat down to breakfast. Tracey and Theo had their heads together behind a copy of the _Daily Prophet_. The front page was plastered with a large photograph of Umbridge, smiling out at the camera beneath the headline.

  
_MINISTRY SEEKS EDUCATIONAL REFORM_  
_DOLORES UMBRIDGE APPOINTED_  
_FIRST EVER HIGH INQUISITOR_  


“What the hell is that about?” Harry demanded, helping himself to some toast.

Tracey lowered her side of the paper, mercifully removing the image of Umbridge. “Fudge has passed Educational Decree Number Twenty-three, creating this fancy new position.”

“But what's it mean?” Draco asked.

“She's going to be inspecting the other staff, to make sure they're meeting the standards the Ministry thinks appropriate,” Tracey explained.

“Inspecting them?” Harry asked.

“No doubt anyone who believes you about the Dark Lord will be heavily scrutinised,” Theo said darkly.

“But Dad told me that's the entire staff – oh, god, Dad's going to cop it,” Harry groaned.

“He'll be fine,” Draco reassured him. “He's too smart to do anything that'll get himself in trouble.”

“Right, yeah,” Harry said, not relaxing at all.

He was tense all through Potions that day, expecting Umbridge to walk into the room any minute. She never showed, however, and Harry breathed a sigh of relief as he left the dungeons to go up to lunch.

She didn't appear in any of their lessons that day, but that didn't mean Harry didn't have to see her. 

Harry and Theo's detention on Monday was at five o'clock, giving them time to scoff down a quick dinner after Charms before they had to be at Umbridge's office.

“We just shut up and do whatever she tells us, and it'll be over quicker,” Theo said as they walked upstairs grimly.

“Right, yeah,” Harry said. “No arguing, whatever she says.”

They paused outside her office door and looked at each other. Theo nodded, and Harry knocked on the door.

“Come in,” she called.

Harry grit his teeth and opened the door, walking in slowly. The office was definitely different from any of the other times Harry had been in here. Remus had stocked his office with stacks of books and the odd Dark creature in a tank or cage. Quirrell, too, had kept a multitude of books in the office, along with mass quantities of garlic, and Crouch had filled it with numerous Dark detectors. 

Looking around himself, Harry almost missed Lockhart's office, which he'd plastered with portraits of himself. Umbridge's decorating style was best described as a mixture of Pansy's love of pink and Mrs Figg's obsession with cats, along with a heaping of revulsion. 

The walls had been painted pastel pink – and were one of the more understated features of the office. Every surface had been covered in floral cloths or doilies. There were vases of dried flowers and one wall was covered in decorative plates. Each one featured a brightly coloured kitten, all of whom were wearing garishly coloured bows around their necks. Harry swallowed thickly and looked at Theo, who looked just as disgusted as he felt.

“Good evening,” Umbridge said.

Both boys turned around quickly. Neither had seen Umbridge at first; she was wearing a set of floral robes that blended with the tablecloths.

“Evening, Professor Umbridge,” they chorused.

“Hurry up then, sit down,” she said. 

She pointed to two spindly little tables, covered with their own doilies, with a piece of parchment resting on top. Harry and Theo dumped their bags on the floor and sat down in the hard, uncomfortable chairs she'd provided.

“You already seem to be better at controlling your tempers, but let's try to make sure the change is permanent, shall we? You will be writing lines this evening,” Umbridge said, smiling broadly.

Harry frowned slightly, confused at such a benign punishment, but bent to pull a quill out of his bag.

“No, not with your own quills. You'll be using some of mine tonight. They're rather special, you understand. They tend to leave a lasting impression.”

She held out two long, thin black quills with oddly sharp tips. Both boys took them, then Theo bent down to his bag again.

“What are you doing, Mr Nott? I just gave your quill.”

“You didn't give us any ink, professor,” Theo said, straightening up.

Umbridge gave a nasty little giggle that sent a wave of revulsion through Harry. “Oh, you won't be needing any ink. I already told you, these quills are special. Now, I want you to write out _I must not tell lies_.”

Theo nodded slowly. “How many times?”

“Until the message has _sunk in_ ,” Umbridge said, smiling again.

Both boys bent over their parchment and began writing _I must not tell_ lies in red ink. Harry stopped at the end of the line, hissing in pain. Beside him, Theo had grunted softly. Harry looked down at his right hand, where the words he had just written had been cut into the back of his hand. As he watched, the cuts sealed over again, leaving the skin smooth as usual, if rather redder.

Harry slowly raised his head to meet Umbridge's happy gaze.

“Is there a problem, boys?” she asked sweetly.

“No, professor,” Theo said, bending back down.

Harry glanced at him out of the corner of his eye before doing the same. He didn't start writing immediately, however. Instead, he took a few seconds to clear his mind.

“You're not writing, Mr Potter,” Umbridge prompted him.

“Sorry,” he slurred. If she noticed the slight change in his voice, or the way his writing was a little messier than previously, she didn't say anything. Harry felt a pang of sympathy for Theo; as far as he knew, Theo couldn't utilise Occlumency to lessen the pain.

Even with his senses slightly dulled, Harry's hand was soon a throbbing, stinging mass of pain. Each time he wrote out _I must not tell lies_ his hand was sliced open again, only to heal itself by the time he was ready to write the next line. Line after line he wrote, silently, refusing to give any more signs of the pain he was in. He could tell Umbridge was watching them, and the thought of giving her anything to smile about was anathema to him.

He had a moment of nausea when he belatedly realised that what he was writing in was his own blood. He wondered if Theo had figured it out yet, but wasn't game to ask. Knowing Theo, it would probably only have taken him a line or two. 

It was hours later (they'd gone through a stack of parchment and the sky outside the window was pitch black) before Umbridge called a halt.

“Show me your hands,” she ordered.

She inspected them closely, leaning over their hands as she held them in her own. Harry resisted the urge to yank his hand out of her grasp. The backs of their hands had sealed over again, but remained red and tender-looking, as if they'd been scraped thoroughly with sandpaper. 

“Well, I suppose it's a good beginning, but we seem to have only scratched the surface tonight. You'll have to try harder tomorrow evening,” Umbridge said, smiling up at them. “You may go.”

They turned instantly, grabbing their bags and hastening out into the corridor. Harry stopped Occluding, getting an instant headache to go along with his painful hand. Neither boy spoke until they'd put a flight of stairs between them and Umbridge's office.

“You okay?” Theo asked.

Harry held his hand up in front of his face and flexed his fingers experimentally. “Yeah. I started using Occlumency after the first line. Took the edge off. You?” 

Theo chuckled, startling Harry. “Oh, yeah. I spent the time thinking.”

“About what?”

“About how we've got her for this. Would Snape be in his office or his quarters at this time?”

Harry stopped walking abruptly. “What are you on about?”

Theo stopped and faced him. “Corporal punishment isn't allowed at Hogwarts. Surely you know that? Ergo, we need to go see your dad right now. Where would he be right now?”

Harry checked his watch: it was just after midnight. “Quarters, I reckon.”

“Lead the way.”

They were silent the rest of the way down into the dungeons. Harry led Theo into the hidden passage that led to Severus' quarters. He watched interestedly as Harry placed his hand on the guard stone, bringing the door into view. After a second of consideration, Harry knocked on it.

After a few seconds the door was pulled open a crack and Severus peered out. “Harry,” he said, pulling the door wider. “What's wrong?”

Harry looked to Theo, since he wasn't entirely sure what he was up to.

“Sir, we'd like to make an official complaint about Umbridge.”

“This couldn't wait until the morning?” Severus asked with a frown.

Theo held up his hand, the back facing Severus. “By that time the evidence will have faded.”

Severus peered at the skin, then opened the door fully and gestured them inside. “What happened?”

“We spent detention writing lines. She had some fancy quills that cut into us and used our blood instead of ink,” Theo summarised.

Severus reached out to lift Harry's hand up to inspect it. He traced a finger over the reddened back of his hand, then let go without warning and stalked over to the fireplace, where he threw a handle of Floo powder into the grate. “Headmaster, I need to speak with you immediately!”

A second later he beckoned Harry and Theo forward. When they reached him he grasped both of them by their shoulders and pulled them into the green flames. They spun around madly before getting spat out into Dumbledore's office.

“Severus, what on earth is the matter?” Dumbledore asked, getting up from his seat behind his desk.

“Umbridge has used Blood Quills on students,” Severus snapped. "I want her gone."

Dumbledore's expression turned grave as he looked at Theo. “Mr Nott, is this true?”

“Yes, sir. We've been writing lines with her all night,” Theo said.

“May I see your hand?” Dumbledore asked, addressing Theo.

Theo walked over and held out his hand. Dumbledore bent over it to inspect it, then straightened up. “You went straight to Professor Snape after detention?”

Theo nodded. “Yes, sir, to make a complaint about Professor Umbridge using corporal punishment.”

“An excellent decision, Mr Nott,” Dumbledore said.

Harry frowned. Theo might have been the one who knew to go to Severus, but Harry had been in that detention, too. He didn't understand why Dumbledore seemed to be ignoring him; in the past, Dumbledore had always been friendly towards him, to the point of over-familiarity at times.

Dumbledore conjured up four squashy armchairs. “Please, sit down,” he said, then walked over to the fireplace and threw some Floo powder in. “Dolores, I'd like to see you in my office, if you'd be so kind.” Harry couldn't quite make out Umbridge's reply, but he gathered she tried to refuse, because Dumbledore then said, “I'm afraid I shall have to insist. Straight away.”

He stepped back and stood behind his desk. A minute later the flames in the fireplace turned green again and the short, squat, spinning figure of Umbridge materialised. She slowed down and stepped out neatly, giving Harry a moment of disappointment; he would've liked to have seen her fall flat on her face.

“Headmaster,” Umbridge cooed. Her face fell for an instant when she saw Harry, Theo and Severus sitting in front of his desk, before her smile returned. “Isn't this a merry little gathering!”

“Not so merry, I'm afraid,” Dumbledore said. He gestured for Umbridge to sit down, taking his own seat once she had. “I've called you here to discuss a matter of grave importance.”

“At this time of night?” Umbridge said. She gave a little giggle, but Harry saw her eyes dart between himself and Theo.

“The matter has only just come to my attention. I believe you know what I'm referring to, Dolores?” Dumbledore asked.

“I've no idea, Headmaster,” she breathed.

“Drop this farcical act!” Severus snapped. “You forced two of my students to use Blood Quills!”

Umbridge definitely looked nervous now, but tried to carry on. “Yes, they had detention with me this evening. I carried out an appropriate punishment for the crimes they committed last week.”

Severus shot to his feet with his wand in his hand. “Appropriate? You think forcing two minors to slice open their hands for hours on end is _appropriate?_ ”

Umbridge quailed back in the face of his anger. Dumbledore held up a hand. “Thank you, Severus,” he said softly. 

Severus' lip curled, but he slowly sank back into his chair. He continue to glare malevolently at Umbridge, who was now looking solely at Dumbledore.

“Dolores, surely you knew corporal punishment is prohibited here at Hogwarts?” Dumbledore enquired. His tone was polite, but his eyes were cold.

“I'm sorry to say I was unaware,” Umbridge said. “I would _never_ have knowingly broken a rule like that!”

Harry had the distinct impression that every single person in the room knew that for a lie.

Dumbledore took on a courteously puzzled expression. “I must say, I find that a little surprising. Surely Cornelius made sure you were made aware of all of Hogwarts' rules before you arrived to begin teaching here?”

“I – no, Headmaster. The Minister is a very busy man,” Umbridge said.

“I would have thought that he would have made every effort to make sure you were aware of our rules here, especially once you were made High Inquisitor. However can you manage to be an effective teacher, or a competent High Inquisitor, if you are unsure of the rules of the very institution at which you are employed?” Dumbledore asked serenely. 

There was a very long, uncomfortable silence.

“I won't use that method again, Headmaster. Not now that I know it's against the rules,” Umbridge said ingratiatingly.

“Of course you won't,” Dumbledore agreed. He Summoned an ancient, heavy book with his wand. “This contains all the rules of Hogwarts, for both students and staff. I'm sure you'll find it very enlightening.”

He leaned over his desk to hand it to Umbridge. She had to stand up to take it, and sagged a little under its weight. 

“If you're unsure about anything in there, feel free to clarify with me,” Dumbledore continued. “I will, of course, be informing Cornelius of tonight's events. It's such a shame that I have to add to his workload like that, but he will of course want to know.”

“Yes, of course,” Umbridge said faintly. “Anything else, Headmaster?”

“Oh, I think we're done here,” Dumbledore said genially.

“A moment, please,” Severus interrupted. “I feel we should discuss the boys' punishments.”

“Yes, Severus?” Dumbledore asked.

“Surely, given the severity of tonight's punishment, they need not attend the remaining four detentions? I think they have more than paid for their transgressions,” Severus said coldly.

“Quite,” Dumbledore said.

“Of course,” Umbridge repeated. “Very well. If you'll excuse me.”

After she'd stomped out, Dumbledore clasped his hands together on his desk. “Thank you for bringing this to my attention, gentlemen. Please inform me if she tries anything like this again, though I don't think she will.”

“Yes, sir,” Harry said.

For the first time that night, Dumbledore looked directly at him. Harry felt an instantaneous wave of hatred, an urge to attack Dumbledore, make him _hurt_ , so totally overwhelming that his hand actually gripped his wand in his pocket. Harry blinked rapidly and forced his hand to relax. 

“I really should write to Fudge, Severus, if you could escort your students to the dungeons,” Dumbledore said, turning away from Harry without making any sign he'd noticed Harry's movements. 

“That's it?” asked Severus. “You're not going to replace her?”

“With whom?” asked Dumbledore. 

“Me,” said Severus.

“And then who would teach Potions, Severus?” asked Dumbledore.

Severus scowled. “Then replace her with anyone else! Lupin could come back – sodding Lockhart would be an improvement on that woman.”

Harry and Theo shared a wide-eyed glance. 

“Remus is busy working for the Order, as is everyone else I trust, Severus, and Gilderoy would not return,” said Dumbledore heavily.

“So we're stuck with her? Even though she confessed to using Blood Quills?” asked Severus.

“I'm afraid so,” said Dumbledore heavily. “Goodnight, gentlemen. Oh, and Severus. Don't do anything foolish.”

“Such as?” asked Severus.

“Retaliating,” said Dumbledore, with a clear note of command in his voice.

Severus scowled for so long, that Harry was sure he would refuse. “Fine,” he eventually ground out.

He nodded at Dumbledore and then gestured for Harry and Theo to stand up. They left through the Floo, arriving in Severus' office. Harry would have fallen onto his face if Severus hadn't caught him by his arms. Harry swayed on his feet as a sudden exhaustion swept over him.

“Are you unwell?”

Harry shook free. “No, just, I cleared my mind when we started writing. You know how that wears me out, and I've never done it for that long before.”

“You Occluded for seven hours?” Severus asked in surprise.

“Yeah, I guess. Helped with the pain,” Harry said.

“Impressive,” Severus murmured, shooing the boys towards the door. “You managed to write legibly whilst Occluding?”

“Not my neatest writing, but yeah.”

“Good. Do you require a pain reliever? For your head or your hand?”

“Nah, I'm just going to go straight to sleep,” Harry said. “Theo?”

“I'm fine,” Theo said, checking the back of his hand.

“You did well tonight, Mr Nott,” Severus said.

“Thank you, sir.”

“I don't get it,” Harry interrupted. “Wouldn't it have been better to say something at the start? Why go through all that pain if you knew she wasn't allowed to?”

“Because this way, we had evidence of what she put us through,” Theo said, holding up his hand. “Plus, do you really think she would've listened to me?”

“She probably would've said you were lying again,” Harry said slowly.

“Exactly,” Theo said. “I'm sorry I couldn't tell you, but I had no way to with her right there.”

Harry smiled crookedly, getting more and more tired. “That's okay.”

They stopped outside the entrance to the common room. 

“Your hands should be fine by the morning, but let me know if there's any pain tomorrow,” Severus instructed them.

Theo nodded. “Yes, sir. Belladonna.”

He slipped inside the entrance way when it opened up, leaving Harry alone with Severus.

“I know this is the last thing you'll want to hear right now, but remember to clear your mind before sleeping,” Severus said.

“Figured as much,” Harry said. He stepped forward and hugged Severus. “Thanks for tonight,” he said, somewhat muffled against Severus' robes.

Severus wrapped his arms around Harry. “Would you have come to me if Theodore had not suggested it?”

Harry took his time answering. “I don't know,” he finally admitted. “I didn't know what she was doing wasn't allowed... Maybe after a few detentions, if my hand was really sore?”

He felt Severus nod a few times before releasing Harry. “You know you can always come to me if you're worried about something, don't you? I won't mock you, no matter how ridiculous you might think your worries are.”

Harry nodded. “Yeah, I just, I dunno, forget sometimes.”

“Entirely understandable, given your upbringing. Just try to keep it in mind,” Severus said.

Harry nodded again, yawning this time. “I'll try. Goodnight, Dad.”


	13. In Which the Slytherins Enter the Propaganda War

Breakfast on Tuesday was a grim affair for the Slytherin fifth years. They huddled together at the table listening to Harry and Theo's account of their detention, and the subsequent scene in Dumbledore's office.

“That foul bitch,” Millicent growled, glaring up at the staff table.

Everyone else turned to follow her gaze. Umbridge was seated in her usual chair, eating her breakfast and reading the massive book Dumbledore had given her the night before. Everyone sniggered when Harry pointed that out; everyone but Draco, that is.

“I don't like this,” he said in a low voice.

“What's not to like about her getting set homework?” Pansy asked. “I hope that book's as boring as the one she set us for Defence.”

“If she really does have a book with every single rule in it, she could go after Harry or Theo for something else,” Draco explained. “I mean, Snape lets us get away with a lot – especially Harry. She could use this to pull us up on rules we aren't even aware of.”

Daphne looked doubtful. “We don't break _that_ many rules. Besides, most of that we do in the common room or your dorm, and she's not allowed in there.”

“Are you forgetting about how I cheated in the Tournament last year and every single one of you knew about it?” Harry asked, beginning to share Draco's concern.

Blaise snorted. “Really? All of us? You're pathetic, Potter, seriously.”

Harry gave him a hard look. “Or what about the amount of times you sneak off after curfew to go snog girls on the Astronomy Tower?”

Blaise shrugged. “I use that secret tunnel you found in first year. She'll never learn about that. And I'm not the only one who does that, thanks very much.”

“Yes, but unlike you, I've never gotten caught out after curfew,” Daphne said smugly.

“There's the time I made Peeves throw all of Lockhart's things in the lake,” Draco chimed in.

Theo grinned. “And the time we made him go bald.”

Pansy smirked. “And the -”

“We get it, Pans,” Millicent interrupted, earning herself a glare.

“I think you're all worrying too much,” Tracey said quickly, before Pansy and Millicent could begin arguing. “Okay, yes, we have a tendency to not follow the rules – some of us more so than others – but Umbridge can only punish us for what _she_ catches us doing. None of the rest of the staff are going to go to her if they catch us, not given how much they all hate her.”

“You lot look like you're plotting something.” They jerked up to see Adrian grinning down at them. He took one look at their faces and laughed. “Right. I don't want to know. I just came over to remind you that we've got Quidditch try-outs this evening at six o'clock. We'll be running through dinner – should lessen the chances of any of the other houses coming to sneak a look.”

Harry, Draco, Millicent and Theo all nodded. “Do we just need a Keeper?” asked Harry.

“Yep. Gryffindor had their try-outs last week, and Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff are both scheduled for next week,” Adrian said.

“Who'd Gryffindor replace?” Theo asked.

“They needed a new Keeper too. Ended up going with yet another Weasley – I think they're trying to take over the entire team. Doesn't seem to be as good as the rest of them, though,” Adrian said happily. “Anyway, I gotta go find Scarlett. See you later!”

Adrian ambled off down towards the fourth years. Harry turned to Draco, beaming. “They went with Ron? You get to fly against Ron!”

Draco's smile was just as wide. “We'll be playing them in less than three months. I can't wait.”

“He might be better than you're expecting,” Millicent warned him.

Draco just shrugged. “That still leaves him incredibly bad. Pretty sure he'll be no match for Scarlett, Adrian and me.”

“Forget about Quidditch,” Theo said quietly, leaning forward. “I don't know about you, Harry, but I want revenge.”

Harry didn't have to ask who he was talking about. “What have you got planned?”

“Well, what would hurt her the most?” Theo asked.

“People believing Harry over the Ministry,” Pansy said.

“Exactly,” Theo smirked. “We need a way to make people believe Harry's telling the truth.”

“We could Imperius him,” Millicent said.

“That's illegal,” Tracey said at once.

“Plus I can fight that,” Harry pointed out.

“Yeah, we can!” Daphne said, giving him a high five.

“Anyway, if you want people to think I'm telling the truth, I say we need a truth potion,” said Harry. “And I know my dad has some Veritaserum.”

“Will he give it to you?” asked Draco.

“Only one way to find out,” Harry said.

He looked up at the staff table, where Severus was drinking a cup of coffee. He must have felt Harry's eyes on him, because he looked down at the Slytherin table after a few seconds. Harry raised his eyebrows and jerked his head towards the exit. Severus gave a tiny nod, finished his coffee and walked out of the side door.

“Meet in our dorm over break,” Harry said, then got up to leave.

He found Severus in his office, gathering up a stack of essays. 

“What's wrong? Is your hand bothering you?” Severus asked.

Harry shook his head, and quickly explained about Theo's idea. Severus listened carefully, frowning in thought.

“I'll give you a bottle under a few conditions,” he said quietly.

“Okay,” Harry said, surprised it had been that easy.

“Firstly, I'll be fired if she finds out I gave it to you, so you're going to have to pretend to have stolen it from my office,” said Severus.

“Sure.”

“But I do not want you or Theodore claiming responsibility for that. You're both already in her sights. Have someone else volunteer, or I want the potion returned to me,” Severus said sternly.

Harry nodded slowly. “Okay. If we get caught -”

“When, not if. The only way this plan will work is if you make some sort of spectacle of yourself, which she will find out about very quickly,” said Severus.

“Okay, _when_ we get caught. You're our Head of House – you'd be in charge of detention, right, not her?”

“I will see to it that I am,” Severus promised.

“Okay, I agree to that.”

“Finally, there are a few things I do not want becoming public knowledge,” Severus said, talking quieter than ever now. “Do not mention the connection you have with the Dark Lord, or that our house is under the Fidelius Charm, and definitely do not mention the existence of the Order.”

Harry swallowed. “Okay.”

Severus stared intently at him for a moment, then whirled around and opened up his cupboard. He pulled out a small green bottle and handed it to Harry. “Hide this in your trunk immediately and get to class.”

“Thank you.”

“Good luck.”

Harry did as he was told, then hurried up to Divination. He was so impatient to return to his dorm that the class seemed to drag on even slower than usual. Not even Pansy's interaction with Trelawney entertained him. As soon as the bell rang Harry hurried back down to the dorm with Pansy and Daphne right behind him. Everyone else was already there. Harry got Ladon to wait by the door, listening out in case Greg or Vince decided to walk in, then told his friends what Severus had said.

“I'll cop it,” Pansy said. “As long as your dad spends detention helping me with my Potions essay.”

“Ooh, me too,” Blaise said.

“When and where are we doing it?” Harry asked.

“Tonight, after Quidditch try outs. In the common room, of course,” said Draco.

“All you have to do is act surprised when we ambush you,” said Blaise.

Harry nodded. “I can do that.”

Harry was luckily kept so busy for the rest of the day that he didn't have a chance to get nervous about the scheme. The plants they were working on in Herbology this year were dangerous enough that there was often no chance for conversation, let alone brooding, and then Care of Magical Creatures that afternoon was inspected by Umbridge. Harry and Draco had been telling Hermione about their plan on their way down to Hagrid's cabin, but they shut up as soon as they spotted the short, pink shape of Umbridge standing next to Grubbly-Plank.

“Twice in one day?” moaned Hermione.

“Who've you seen her inspect?” asked Harry.

“McGonagall,” Hermione replied, then smiled. “That was brilliant, actually. McGonagall didn't take any of her nonsense, it was a lot of fun to watch. Have you had her yet?”

“This is the first time,” Harry said. “Listen, don't say anything about Hagrid being missing if you can help it, okay?”

“Why, is he in trouble?” Hermione asked.

“I hope not. But he's off on Order business, so the less Umbridge thinks about him being missing the better,” Harry muttered.

“Alright, but this Saturday you're telling us what you know,” Draco said quietly. Hermione nodded.

“Deal,” Harry said as they joined the rest of the class at the trestle tables outside Hagrid's cabin.

“I believe you are not the regular teacher for this class, is that correct?” Umbridge was asking. She made a note on the clipboard she was holding.

“That's right. I'm just standing in for Professor Hagrid,” Grubbly-Plank said unconcernedly. “Afternoon, class.”

Umbridge continued in a quieter voice. “Regarding Professor Hagrid... The Headmaster refuses to give me any information about his absence – do you have any idea why he is yet to return here?”

Grubbly-Plank shook her head “No idea. Dumbledore asked me if I could fill in for a while, I said I could. Makes no difference to me – I'm just happy for the work. So, shall I get started?”

“Yes, of course,” Umbridge said.

As Grubbly-Plank began telling the class about the way Bowtruckles made their nests, Umbridge wandered through the class asking questions about the magical creatures they'd covered so far. Harry paid more attention to the answers she was getting than to Grubbly-Plank, relieved when everyone was able to answer correctly. By the increasingly sour look on Umbridge's face, Harry gathered she'd been hoping for proof that Hagrid was a terrible teacher. He was very pleased that she'd found none.

“If Professor Hagrid does not return for some time, what creatures are you planning on introducing to the class?” Umbridge asked, returning to Grubbly-Plank's side. 

“Not much left to cover before OWLs, Hagrid's done a very thorough job,” Grubbly-Plank said. She didn't seem to hear the small noise of disbelief that Umbridge made. “Let's see, Crups and Knarls – oh, Porlocks... Think they're the only creatures he hasn't covered that might be on the exam. He even took the chance to study Abraxans when the Beauxbatons lot were here – great opportunity that was, and very good thinking on his part. They also made a very interesting comparison with the unicorns I showed the class when I filled in.”

Umbridge scribbled a note on her clipboard then tried a different tack. “And how are you finding it here at Hogwarts in your capacity as a substitute? Staff and management treating you well?”

“Oh, yes, everyone's been great. Dumbledore runs this place well, the rest of the staff have been welcoming. You won't hear any complaints from me,” Grubbly-Plank said cheerfully.

There was a brief moment when a most disappointed expression flashed across Umbridge's face before she smiled again. “I see. Well, _you_ seem to know what you're talking about here. I'll leave you to it. You can expect the results of your inspection within ten days.”

“Jolly good,” Grubbly-Plank said breezily.

Umbridge nodded and walked off to the castle. Harry watched her leave, wishing he could see what, if anything, she'd written about Hagrid on her clipboard.

All thoughts of Umbridge were driven out of Harry's mind after class, however, as he hurried to get a quick bite to eat before getting his Quidditch gear out for try-outs. Not having flown in months, Harry decided to go down the pitch early, and Draco and Scarlett ended up joining him. 

“I believe you about You-Know-Who!” Scarlett burst out as soon as they'd exited the castle.

“Thanks, Scar,” Harry said with a grin.

Scarlett nodded quickly. “So do Archie and Luna, but a lot of my year don't. I got into a fight in my dorm the other night. The Carrows both said you were lying, so I hit Flora with Ginny's Bat-Bogey Hex. I would've got Hestia, too, but Archie and Ella pulled me away.”

Harry shrugged. “Of course they're going to say I'm lying, Scarlett. Their aunt and uncle are Death Eaters.”

Scarlett's eyes got cartoonishly round. “ _Really?_ But... I have to share a dorm with them! I sleep in there!”

Draco snorted. “You think that's bad? There's only one person in our dorm who _doesn't_ have a Death Eater for a father.”

“Hey, my dad switched sides ages ago,” Harry protested.

“True, sorry,” Draco nodded.

“Hmm, okay, you guys have it worse than I do,” Scarlett agreed reluctantly, then brightened. “So! Have you heard about anyone trying out tonight?”

Both boys shook their heads. “I've been too busy to pay much attention,” Harry said.

Scarlett laughed. “Oh, yeah, shouting at Umbridge. She's a real bitch, isn't she? She inspected Flitwick today. She actually pulled out a measuring tape and measured him in the middle of the lesson! Like she can judge anyone for being short!”

“Neither can you,” Draco pointed out.

“Yeah, and I don't. Being short's awesome,” Scarlett retorted.

“How?” demanded Draco.

She shrugged. “I can fit into all sorts of hiding places if Filch is about to catch me out after curfew. Plus I'm like the size of a first year, so Fred and George can use me to test that their stuff's safe for them, since Hermione got cross with them when they tried to test on actual first years.”

“But she's okay with you being a tester?” Harry asked.

“No idea, I'm not stupid enough to do it in front of her,” Scarlett replied. “Besides, it's worth it: I get all these freebies of their stuff.”

“Hey, me too. Did you get any of their fireworks?” Harry asked.

Scarlett's eyes lit up. “Yes! My brother and I set a bunch off for my mum's birthday. They're brilliant! Do you have any?”

“Yeah, dunno what I want to use them for, though,” Harry said.

“I'll take them if you don't want them,” Scarlett offered.

“I'll be right,” Harry said hastily. “Come on, race you round the pitch!”

After racing around the pitch a few times, Scarlett dove down and broke into the storage shed to fetch a Quaffle. The three of them passed it around for a while before Harry left the others to it: Draco and Scarlett worked much better without Harry, as they were used to playing Chaser together, and he wanted to practise some new evasive manoeuvres he'd been reading about. The sound of conversation made all three of them pull up, and they looked down to see a small but steady stream of Slytherins making their way down to the pitch. 

“Should we land?” Scarlett asked, tossing the Quaffle to Draco.

Harry, who had stopped in the middle of a Sloth-Grip Roll and was currently hanging upside-down from his broom, nodded with some difficulty. “I'm starting to get dizzy anyway,” he said as he righted himself.

“I wonder why,” Draco drawled as they began to descend.

“Well obviously I'm not going to do that move over and over during an actual game,” Harry said.

Scarlett giggled. “It'd be funny if you did. Probably confuse the hell out of the other Seeker.”

“Not exactly the best way for me to look for the Snitch, though,” Harry said, though he was laughing as well.

The three of them landed in the middle of the pitch, where they were promptly joined by the rest of the team. The rest of the crowd ambled to a halt a few metres away.

“Good, you're already warmed up,” Adrian said. “Harry, Draco, go fetch the ball chest while I address the rabble.”

Harry hopped off his Firebolt and walked to the storage shed with Draco, whilst behind them, Adrian gave a loud whistle. “Alright, listen up you lot! As usual, you have to be in second year or above to play, so firsties, you need to skip off to the stands!” A large group of small children ran off giggling.

Harry sniggered. “Why are there always so many firsties?”

“Probably because they all hope that Snape will bend the rules for them, like he did with you,” Draco replied.

“This is my fault?” Harry asked in amusement.

“Completely. Don't you read the _Prophet_? You're a terrible influence on impressionable children,” Draco smirked.

“Glad to see you can laugh about that,” Harry grumbled, picking up one end of the ball chest. 

Draco hefted the other end. “Of course I can.”

Harry eyed him suspiciously. “Why are you smirking like that?”

“Because,” Draco said, his smirk widening, “as soon as we're done here, we're going to hit Umbridge right where it'll hurt the most. What's not to smirk about?”

Harry didn't have a chance to mention his growing nerves, as they'd rejoined the assembled Slytherins. They set the ball chest on the ground then stood with the rest of the team while Adrian finished addressing the wannabe Quidditch players.

“Snape's warned me again that anyone with crap grades will get booted from the team, so keep that in mind. If I have to pick a new Keeper halfway through the season, Snape isn't the only one you'll need to hide from,” Adrian said, then paused. When he continued, his voice was as cold as Harry had ever heard it. “One final warning. There have been a lot of rumours about some of this team lately.”

Heads swivelled in Harry's direction. He clenched his jaw and kept his eyes resolutely on Adrian.

“You want to join this team, you need to keep your mind focused on Quidditch when we're on the pitch. Anyone who joins this team out of some sick curiosity, or to stir up trouble, will be gone. I don't care who you are. The six of us,” Adrian gestured at himself and his team mates beside him, “fly well together. Anyone wanting to join needs to fit in with us. You mess with any one of us, you're gone, understood?”

Warrington stepped forward. “You can't just -”

“Actually, I can. You got a problem with the way I run this team, take it up with Snape,” Adrian said, coolly meeting the gaze of the much larger Warrington.

Warrington broke first. “No thanks,” he said, stepping back.

“Anyone else got a problem?” Adrian asked. When all he got was a sea of shaking heads, he smiled. “Good. Alright, people, in the air!”

Like the last try outs he'd held, Adrian had all the hopefuls warm up then start passing the Quaffle around. He dismissed the players who dropped the ball more than once, leaving five players hovering in mid-air.

“Alright, you're going to take it in turns defending the goal hoops. You'll each face one Chaser and one Beater for ten minutes. Whoever performs best in that time joins the team. Imogen and Vikram, you're up first. The rest of you wait on the sidelines,” Adrian ordered. “Scarlett, you're with Millicent; Draco, you're with Theo. Pick an end.”

As the rest of the team flew off to face their prospective Keepers, Harry looked at Adrian expectantly. “What do you want me to do?”

“You're helping me judge,” Adrian said. “Don't just keep track of how many goals they let in: I want you to look at how they fly, as well. Are they covering all three hoops, do they have a steady seat, that sort of thing. Can you handle that?”

“Yeah,” Harry said, turning to watch Imogen's performance.

It felt a bit strange to be sitting out like this, but Harry found he enjoyed rating the players. After Imogen Stretton, a sixth year who was a bit jittery but only let in one goal and didn't get hit by Theo's Bludger, Harry watched Warrington. Since there was an odd number of players, he joined Adrian on the sidelines for the last one, a brawny second year named Malcolm Baddock.

“Vikram was alright, speedy enough. Garrick's definitely out though,” Adrian said. “How'd yours go?”

“Imogen was okay, one goal and dodged all of Theo's Bludgers,” Harry said thoughtfully. “Warrington let in one Quaffle before he got hit with a Bludger, and let in another two.”

“Good, I couldn't handle having him on the team,” Adrian said, not taking his eyes off Malcolm, who'd just intercepted Scarlett's latest shot at goal. “Nice save, that. What is he, second year?”

“Yeah,” Harry said, similarly impressed.

When Malcolm's ten minutes were up everyone gathered on the ground to hear the verdict.

“Welcome to the team, Malcolm,” Adrian said. 

“Thanks, mate,” Malcolm said, in a thick Glaswegian accent, over the sound of his friends cheering in the stands.

Imogen, Vikram and Garrick all looked disappointed but nodded and began to disperse. Warrington, on the other hand, narrowed his eyes and marched over to Harry.

“I saw you whispering to Pucey on the sidelines, Potter,” he snarled.

“Yeah, and?” Harry asked. He kept his voice steady, but he transferred his Firebolt to his left hand in case he needed to draw his wand.

Warrington stepped forward again, so that he was staring down at Harry. “And don't think I don't know what's going on here. That little speech Pucey gave was obviously aimed at people who think you're a lying twat. What, you shagging him or something?”

Draco made to step forward, only to be stopped when Millicent reached out and grabbed him by the back of his collar.

Harry put his hand into his wand pocket. “No, I'm not. He wanted my opinion on you and Imogen, and I told him the truth. She was better than you, anyone here could tell you that.”

“You're not on the team because Malcolm flew better than you,” Adrian said. “So did Vikram and Imogen. Stop taking it out on Harry.”

Warrington gave the entire team a very ugly look before stomping off to the castle. 

“Well, guess I better double-check the wards on the stuff in my dorm when I get back,” Adrian said heavily. “Let's hit the showers.”

“You have your things warded?” Scarlett asked.

“Yep. Don't trust him or Bletchley,” Adrian replied.

Millicent and Scarlett split off for the girls' showers. Harry spent his own shower listening to Theo talking to Adrian over the cubicle wall about warding. He could tell that Theo was taking more than an academic interest in the subject.

As they walked up to the castle, Harry glanced over and saw Malcolm frowning as he listened to Adrian and Theo's conversation.

“It's not always like this, you know,” Harry said. “Practises, I mean. We don't usually get seventh years coming to yell at us. Not apart from Adrian, anyway, and he's harmless.”

Malcolm grinned. “Mate, where I'm from, someone would've been leaving the pitch in an ambulance.”

“You're Muggle-born?” Harry asked in surprise. “I've never heard of one being in Slytherin.”

“Still haven't. I'm a half-blood,” Malcolm said. “Which is nearly as rare down in the dungeons, eh?”

Harry shrugged. “Not quite. There's me and Dad. Oh, and Gemma – she was Head Girl a couple years ago...”

“Three people, that's it?” Malcolm asked.

“Well, not everyone who claims to be a pure-blood is actually a pure-blood,” said Draco. “Look far enough back on a lot of people's family trees and you'll find a Muggle or two mixed in.”

“Close enough, though,” Malcolm said.

“And Voldemort,” Harry added.

Malcolm's eyebrows shot up. “You-Know-Who's a half-blood?”

“His dad was a Muggle,” Harry said.

“Yes, the Dark Lord is a hypocrite as well as a psychopath. Can we change the subject?” Draco asked tersely.

Harry cast about wildly. “Oi, Adrian! You never told us when practise is.”

Adrian looked back from where he was walking with Theo and the girls. “Thursdays at seven.”

“Excellent,” Theo cackled.

“Why?” Millicent asked.

“It's after Defence. Class will be a hell of a lot more tolerable if I know I've got Quidditch to look forward to,” Theo explained happily.

“Glad to be of service,” Adrian said.

They discussed Quidditch tactics for the rest of the walk to the dungeons. When they got into the common room Millicent stopped so abruptly that Harry walked straight into her.

“Sorry,” he muttered.

“You're finally here!” someone called.

The team squeezed further into the room so that the entranceway could shut. Harry looked around Millicent and saw what looked like every Slytherin student squeezed into the room, all with their eyes locked on the team.

“What's going on?” demanded Theo.

Pansy stepped forward. “We've decided that we've had enough of us Slytherins arguing over whether or not Harry's telling the truth about You-Know-Who. We need to stick together. So we're going to settle this once and for all.”

“How?” Harry asked, hoping he looked sufficiently suspicious.

Blaise walked up next to Pansy and held up a small green bottle. “With Veritaserum.”

“What? No,” Harry said. “Wait, where did you get that?”

Blaise smirked; he was clearly enjoying himself. “We stole it.”

“From?”

“From Snape,” Pansy said bluntly. “Now stop asking so many questions and just drink it.”

Harry raised his eyebrows. “You want me to drink Veritaserum that you stole from my dad? In a room full of Slytherins?”

“Yes,” Pansy said. Behind her, most of the rest of the house was nodding.

“What's the problem, Potter? Scared you're going to be outed as a liar?” called Graham.

“No, I just don't trust you lot not to ask a bunch of embarrassing questions. If that stuff was made by my dad then I won't have a choice in answering anything,” Harry said.

“It was. Label's in his writing,” Blaise said, holding up the bottle again.

“Why don't we limit the number of people who can ask you questions? The six of us Prefects, for example,” Zubeida suggested, standing up.

“That works,” Darius said, joining her.

There was widespread nodding at this. Nerissa and Bastien moved to the front of the crowd, to join Pansy, but Draco stayed with the Quidditch team, next to Harry.

Harry sighed and held out his hand. “Fine.”

Blaise was about to hand over the bottle when Imogen held up a hand. “How do we know that's really Veritaserum?”

Pansy and Blaise looked at each other. “Use me as a test subject,” Blaise said.

He uncorked the bottle and ostentatiously poured three drops into his mouth. He lowered his hand and put the cork back in as the entire room held its breath. All of a sudden, Blaise's face went blank and his eyes became unfocused. 

“What are we supposed to ask him?” Bastien asked the other Prefects.

Darius smirked. “Who's the last girl you shagged?”

“Agnes Monkleigh,” Blaise said in a monotone. “At the top of the Astronomy Tower. Last Tuesday night.”

Heads swivelled to stare at Agnes, sitting next to Imogen and Vikram. She'd gone bright red but nodded. “He's telling the truth.” Imogen whispered something to her, making both girls giggle.

“Good, that's settled!” Pansy said brightly. “Blaise, go join Theo, he'll make sure no one asks you anything else embarrassing until the effects wear off.”

Blaise shuffled over to stand next to Theo. Scarlett snagged the bottle of Veritaserum out of his hand as he passed. “You might need this,” she said to Pansy.

Pansy chucked the bottle to Harry, who snatched it neatly. “Three drops, Harry.”

Harry couldn't help the nervous flutter in his stomach as he contemplated what he was about to do. Figuring he had to trust his friends – and hoping that they wouldn't ask anything that Severus had forbidden – Harry uncorked the bottle and carefully poured three drops into his mouth. He put the cork back in the bottle and handed it to Pansy, then waited.

He was just beginning to feel uncomfortable, given the intensity with which everyone was watching him, when all of a sudden it stopped mattering. It wasn't quite like being under Imperius – there wasn't the bliss that came along with the curse. Instead, it was as if his entire perspective had shifted. The eyes of the crowd no longer bothered him; what they thought of him no longer bothered him; what Harry himself thought no longer bothered him. 

He no longer had an opinion. All he knew was the truth: what was, and what had been. Voldemort wasn't good or bad: he just _was_. He was a thing that Harry _knew_. Harry didn't have to worry about why things were the way they were: the only thing he needed to do was tell people what he knew when they asked him.

“I don't like this,” he heard Draco say beside him. 

Harry turned to look at him. He was looking upset about something, though Harry didn't know what. It didn't matter, either.

“Can you hear me?” Draco asked.

“Yes,” Harry said.

“What is your full name?” Pansy asked.

“Harry James Potter.”

“Why are you asking him that? We all know his name,” Zubeida said.

“Just checking if he's under,” Pansy said. “It's not like I've done this before.”

Zubeida rolled her eyes. “Harry, can you tell us what happened last June?”

“Yes,” said Harry.

There was a long silence, broken by Pansy's laughter. “You need to ask him open-ended questions, Khan.”

Zubeida shot her a dirty look. “Harry, what happened in the third task in the Triwizard Tournament?”

“I went into a maze. There were three other champions. I had a head start. I had to hurry so they couldn't follow me. I kept turning right. I had to light my wand because it was dark. I got followed by a Pogrebin that I had to Stun. I got attacked by a swarm of Doxys. I used a Freezing Charm on them. I used a Shield Charm to get past a Fire Crab. I heard Viktor getting attacked by an Acromantula a few rows over. He got saved by Hagrid. I got attacked by a troll. It broke my leg and hit my head. My head wouldn't stop bleeding. I knocked the troll out with its own club. I made a splint and a crutch and kept going. I came across a sphinx. When I answered her riddle she let me pass by. I was first to the trophy. Cedric and Fleur arrived just as I touched it.”

There was another long silence. Harry stared at the six Prefects who were looking at him with various expressions of exasperation and incredulity. 

“We clearly need to be more specific about what we ask him,” Bastien said eventually.

Nerissa nodded. “Harry, Cedric and Fleur said you disappeared from the maze. How did you do that?”

“I touched the trophy. It was a Portkey,” said Harry.

“Where did the Portkey take you?” asked Nerissa.

“To a graveyard in Little Hangleton.”

“Why didn't you use the Portkey to come straight back?” asked Darius.

“I didn't know it would do that. I'd never seen a Portkey before. I was worried it might take me somewhere worse.”

The Prefects all looked at each other, then Pansy asked, “Was there anybody there with you when you got there?”

“No.”

“Ha! He just admitted he's made the whole thing up!” Xander Lofthouse crowed. “Lying little arsewipe.”

The group of sixth years he was sitting with all sniggered, as did many of the seventh years, and Greg and Vince. Harry watched them disinterestedly.

“Shut the fuck up or I'll hex you into next week,” Draco snarled.

“Nobody's hexing anyone,” Zubeida snapped. “Malfoy, put your wand away. Lofthouse, keep your mouth shut.”

“Pansy probably just asked another badly worded question,” Adrian said.

Pansy glared at him, then turned to Harry again. “Did anyone arrive after you got there?”

“Yes.”

“Who was it?” asked Bastien.

“Peter Pettigrew. He was carrying a wrapped bundle that turned out to be Voldemort. I thought it was a baby at first, because of how small it was.”

A shiver went around the room at Voldemort's name and a few people gasped. 

“What happened next?” Nerissa asked.

“My scar hurt. The pain made me fall to the ground. I dropped my wand. I don't know how long it was until it stopped hurting. Then Pettigrew put Voldemort on the ground and tied me to a gravestone. The grave belonged to Voldemort's father. Pettigrew gagged me. Voldemort's pet snake, Nagini, was circling the grave I was tied to. Pettigrew pushed a giant stone cauldron over to the foot of the grave.”

There was a hush in the room as everyone listened to Harry, transfixed.

“Then what happened?” Pansy all but whispered.

“Pettigrew put Voldemort into the cauldron. I heard him sink to the bottom. Then Pettigrew took a bone from Voldemort's father and added it to the potion. He cut off his own hand and put it into the potion. He took some of my blood and put it into the potion. The potion turned bright white and poured steam. When the steam cleared Voldemort was standing there. He had returned.”

Draco reached out and took Harry's hand in a crushing grip. Quite a few people were looking terrified by now.

“What – what did he do?” Darius asked.

“He ordered Pettigrew to give him his robes. He pulled his wand out of his pocket. Then he got Pettigrew to show him his Dark Mark. Voldemort pressed it to call all the Death Eaters.”

“Did -” Bastien broke off and shook his head. “How many Death Eaters arrived?”

“I don't know. I counted at least twenty.”

“Can you name any?” Draco asked.

“Yes.”

“Who?”

“Avery, Nott, Crabbe and Goyle.”

Theo stared stonily ahead, ignoring the people who had turned to stare at him. Vince and Greg simply looked about them with a confused belligerence.

“How do you know it was them?” Zubeida asked.

“Voldemort addressed them by name,” said Harry. 

“What did You-Know-Who do then?” asked Nerissa.

“He gave a speech about how he'd managed to keep from dying in 1981 when he tried to kill me for the first time. He spoke about what he'd done since then. He used the Cruciatus curse on me. The Death Eaters all laughed. Then Voldemort decided to duel me,” said Harry.

Pansy's mouth was twisted unhappily. “What happened in the duel?”

“He used the Cruciatus curse again. When I recovered he tried Imperius. I threw that off and told him to fuck off.” There was a fair bit of shocked, nervous laughter at that. “Then he tried the Cruciatus again. I dodged it. Then he used the Killing Curse. I used the Disarming Charm at the same time. The spells met. Our wands share a core. My wand forced his into Priori Incantatem. It started to emit shades of the last people he'd murdered. My parents appeared last.”

Pansy's eyes were glittering with tears by now. “I can't,” she whispered to Nerissa.

She nodded. “What happened after that?” she asked gently.

“My parents spoke to me. They told me how to get back to Hogwarts. Then they distracted Voldemort for me. I ran away. I Summoned the Portkey. It took me back to Hogwarts.”

There was the longest silence yet.

“Jesus,” Adrian said.

“We're done now,” Draco said.

“Definitely,” Pansy agreed.

“You can't just end it like that!” Miles objected.

“Like fuck I can't,” snapped Draco. “If you don't believe Harry after hearing all of that, you're never going to believe him. What can you possibly achieve by asking him anything else?”

“We could ask him what he's been doing since then,” Xander said.

“He got adopted by Snape and has had his name dragged through the mud by the _Prophet_. Everyone knows that,” Pansy said impatiently.

There was a lot of angry muttering at that; evidently, quite a few people felt that they weren't done just quite yet. Harry waited to see who would win out.

Nerissa held up her hands. “They're right. We've heard Harry's story. Personally, I'm convinced he's telling the truth. Asking him to repeat himself won't make anyone change their minds.”

Bastien and Zubeida both nodded. Darius watched them, then nodded as well. “Meeting's over.”

Draco immediately tugged Harry towards the dorm. “Come on.”

Harry followed obediently. He was steered down the corridor, into their dorm, and led over to his bed. Draco guided him down and sat down next to him. 

“Are you alright?” he asked.

“Yes.”

Draco didn't look reassured by Harry's response. He sighed in relief when the door opened and Theo led a disoriented Blaise in. They were closely followed by the girls. Millicent shut the door behind them.

“Harry back yet?” Pansy asked.

“Still out of it,” Draco said. “I thought it would've worn off by now.”

“It takes a while, but he should only be a minute or two. I'm mostly back,” Blaise said.

“I think that all went brilliantly!” Tracey said.

Daphne produced a bottle of Firewhisky from her robes. “Celebrations are definitely in order.”

“Wait until Harry's functioning,” Draco said, peering closely at Harry's face.

Harry looked at him, blinking. He didn't know why Draco was looking so concerned. Whatever the reason, it probably wasn't good, Harry figured.

“Oh. I think it's wearing off,” Harry said slowly.

Draco leaned even closer, peering intently into Harry's eyes. Harry couldn't help crossing them at him.

“The prat's back,” Draco said, leaning back.

“Mostly,” Harry felt compelled to add.

“Well, I'd say that was a success. Most of the house looked pretty convinced to me,” Pansy said.

Theo nodded. “We did good.”

“I still can't believe we planned all of this in a day,” Harry said, helping Daphne hand out glasses of Firewhisky.

“Wasn't much to it,” Blaise said.

Pansy raised her glass. “To fabulous planning, amusing revenge, and superb execution!”

Everyone raised their glasses and took a sip.

“Now what?” Millicent asked.

Theo smirked. “Now we wait.”


	14. In Which the Slytherins Take a Break From Plotting, Only for Hermione to Begin

On Wednesday morning, Harry couldn't make up his mind about what he was feeling. While the majority of Slytherins now believed he'd been telling the truth about Voldemort, some of them didn't seem to be particularly pleased about it. Crossing the common room on his way to breakfast, he got quite a few encouraging nods and smiles from people who only the day before had been more inclined to whisper about him; there were also a couple of groups who gave him deeply unpleasant looks as he passed through. Harry did his best to ignore them, something he was becoming unhappily good at. 

On top of all that, he knew it was only a matter of time before Umbridge found out about what the Slytherins had gotten up to the night before. While he was pleased the Veritaserum scheme had worked as planned, he knew Umbridge would have something unpleasant planned for him once she heard about it.

His classes themselves were uneventful. He spent History of Magic writing a letter to Pansy's mother, politely declining her offer of an interview, with Pansy leaning over his shoulder dictating. When he finished that he wrote another letter to Flourish and Blotts, enquiring about a present for Hermione, whose birthday was the following week. Charms was its usual cheerful chaos, and despite the essay Flitwick had set them, Harry was in a good mood heading down for lunch: he had two whole free periods to look forward to.

He was happily planning an afternoon of flying around the grounds with Draco when someone cleared their throat behind him. He twisted around to see Ernie standing there.

“I just wanted to let you know that I believe you, Harry,” he said loudly (and more than a little pompously). “My family has always backed Dumbledore, and I will continue the tradition.”

“Er, right, thanks, Ernie,” Harry said awkwardly.

Ernie nodded and walked off to the Hufflepuff table. Harry watched him sit down with his friends, who seemed to be questioning him eagerly, but sending friendlier looks in Harry's direction than he'd been used to lately.

“Your handiwork, Pansy?” he asked when he twisted back around to the Slytherin table.

Pansy shook her head. “I've been in class with you all day. I know I'm good, but I'm not _that_ good. I only managed to tell a few people at breakfast and morning break.”

Harry gazed around the hall, which he now noticed had a more excited than usual air about it. “Well, someone's definitely been busy.”

“Harry, the entire house was there last night. Anyone who's come into contact with someone from another house will have told them what happened,” Daphne said in exasperation.

“Oh,” he said, feeling foolish. 

He masked his embarrassment by helping himself to a large slice of steak and kidney pie. As he chewed it, he looked up at the staff table. Severus was talking to Flitwick, but seemed to feel Harry's eyes on him, because he raised his head and gave him a covert smile. Harry grinned and went back to his lunch.

“Hem, hem.”

Harry turned around once more to find Umbridge standing behind him, at a height with Harry sitting on the bench. She was red-faced and fairly quivering with anger.

“Yes, Professor?” he asked, not bothering to cover his mouth, which was still full of pie.

“Mr Potter, a most alarming tale has reached my ears,” Umbridge said.

“Really? What was it?” Harry asked.

“I'm afraid I cannot discuss it in the middle of the Great Hall. You will accompany me to my office immediately,” she ordered.

Harry hadn't noticed him moving, but Severus was suddenly looming over Umbridge. “Is there a problem, Professor Umbridge?”

Umbridge looked up at him with great dislike. “It's nothing that concerns you, Professor Snape.”

Severus raised an eyebrow. “Really? Because from where I was sitting, it appeared that you were taking umbrage with my son. No doubt I misread the situation from such a distance.”

If Umbridge noticed the play on her name, she made no sign of it. “I was talking to Mr Potter in my capacity as Hogwarts High Inquisitor.”

“And I'm talking to you in my capacity as Head of Slytherin House. What has Mr Potter done?” Severus asked.

Umbridge drew herself up to her full height. “He has used Veritaserum without proper Ministry approval!”

Severus blinked. “And?”

“And the use of Veritaserum is heavily restricted!” Umbridge snapped.

“Yes, it is,” Severus agreed. “One cannot administer it to another person without their consent, and its use in court is also heavily restricted. What did Mr Potter do?”

“He used it to spread misinformation throughout the rest of the Slytherin common room yesterday evening,” Umbridge said officially.

“Ah,” Severus said softly. “So he did not use it in a court of law, or force another student to ingest it?”

“No,” Umbridge ground out.

“Then I'm afraid that I do not see the problem,” Severus said.

Umbridge glared at him. “You will accompany him to my office!”

“If you insist,” Severus said. “Though I feel I should warn you – in your capacity as Hogwarts High Inquisitor – that I have a class of third years immediately after lunch that I really should be there to teach.”

“You will take this matter seriously, Professor Snape,” Umbridge said.

“I'm taking this matter entirely seriously, Professor Umbridge,” Severus said. “Such an advancement in the brewing of Veritaserum is a very impressive feat, especially from someone so young.”

“What are you on about?” Umbridge asked, confused.

“Veritaserum takes a full lunar cycle to brew,” Severus explained. “I know that Harry didn't brew any over the summer holidays, which means he must have managed to do so in the nine days we have been at Hogwarts. That's remarkable from a fifth year student, given that Veritaserum is a NEWT level potion. How did you do it?”

Harry met Severus' eyes, which were glinting in amusement. “Er, I didn't.”

“No? Then where did you get the potion from?” Severus asked.

“From you,” Harry said, trying to look sheepish.

“You provided him with the Veritaserum?” Umbridge demanded.

“Would I have asked him how he came to possess it if I had given it to him?” Severus asked her scornfully. He turned back to Harry. “You stole this from me?”

“No, sir,” Harry said.

“Then how did you get it?” Umbridge asked impatiently.

“I – er – I -”

“I see,” Severus said softly, dangerously. “Which of your friends broke into my office and stole it for you?”

His gaze swept the surrounding fifth years, all of whom managed to appear nervous.

“Me, sir,” Pansy said, more timidly than Harry had ever heard her sound. “Me and Blaise. During dinner yesterday. It was Blaise's idea.”

“It was your idea to spring it on him in the common room,” Blaise said, scowling at her.

“You're the one who suggested Veritaserum!” Pansy shot back.

“Only because you -”

“Silence!” Severus snapped. “Miss Parkinson, Mr Zabini, are you saying that you broke into my office, stole an incredibly powerful potion from me, then used it to ambush my son with an interrogation upon his return from Quidditch try outs?”

Pansy and Blaise hung their heads. “Yes, sir.”

“My office. Now,” Severus snapped at them. As they left, he turned back to Umbridge. “I think that's sorted then, wouldn't you agree? Harry knew nothing about their plans and did not break any school rules. I shall personally oversee the punishment of the two offenders, you need not concern yourself about them.”

Umbridge glared up at him, clearly trying to think of something else to pin on Harry. “See that you do,” she eventually hissed, before walking out of the hall.

Severus watched her leave, sneering slightly, then turned back to Harry. “I'll see you in my chambers for dinner. I want to talk to you.”

“Yes, Dad.”

Severus nodded and swept out of the room, his robes billowing behind him. Harry somehow kept a straight face long enough to bury it in his goblet before breaking into helpless laughter that spread to the rest of the group.

“Oh, god, her face!” Daphne choked out between giggles.

“We definitely need to do that again,” Millicent said.

“You don't think she figured out that Dad was in on it, do you?” Harry asked, suddenly worried. “I mean, he was pretty obviously trying not to laugh in her face...”

“Who, Snape? He looked like he was about to eviscerate someone!” Tracey said.

Harry stared at her. “What?”

Draco put a hand on his arm. “Clearly you know him better than we do, because he looked mad as hell from where I was sitting.”

“If you say so,” Harry said.

“Are you going to brood over this all afternoon?” Draco asked impatiently.

“No,” Harry lied.

Draco rolled his eyes. “Harry, he'll be fine. There's no way Umbridge could've known he was in on it, alright? And you're the only one here who thought he looked remotely amused.”

“If you say so,” Harry said doubtfully. He pushed his plate away, no longer hungry.

Draco sighed. “Will flying cheer you up?”

“Probably, yeah.”

Draco stood up. “Let's go then.”

Harry frowned. “But your lunch -”

Draco pulled him to his feet. “For some reason I seem to lose my appetite when my boyfriend's sitting next to me, completely miserable.”

“You're such a softie,” Harry said.

“No, I'm not,” Draco said swiftly. 

“Yeah, you are. Like a big, squishy marshmallow,” Harry said, slipping his hand into Draco's.

“Take that back,” Draco ordered, though he held onto Harry's hand.

“Make me, marshmallow.”

Draco shuddered. “If you start calling me 'marshmallow', I swear I'll hex you into one.”

Harry laughed. “There's no such hex.”

Draco's eyes glinted. “You sure about that?”

“Okay, I'll stop,” Harry said.

“Thank you.”

“Git.”

“Prat.”

********

  
After a very enjoyable afternoon spent flying around the grounds with Draco (and stopping to snog more than once), Harry showered then walked down to Severus' quarters. This time, when he placed his hand on the stone the door shimmered into view immediately. Harry grinned and walked inside, only to find the place deserted.

“Dad?”

When there was no answer, he shrugged and turned on the wireless, fiddling with the dial until he finally found a station playing decent music. He was just scanning the bookshelves for something interesting to read when there was the sound of a door opening.

“You're early,” Severus said, stepping out of the bathroom with still-dripping hair.

“I figured the sooner I got here, the sooner I could leave. I've got a ton of homework,” Harry explained.

“Perhaps you should have thought about that when you decided to spend the afternoon flying around the grounds,” Severus suggested.

“How do you know what I did?” Harry asked, then shook his head. “Never mind. What's for dinner? I'm starving.”

“Roast pork,” Severus said, walking over to the dining table and rapping it twice with his wand. 

The table immediately set itself for two. A juicy roast sat on a bed of roast vegetables, giving off a delicious smell that had Harry's stomach growling. He hurried over and sat down, sipping on the pumpkin juice that had appeared beside his plate while he waited for Severus to carve the meat.

“What did you want to talk about?” he asked.

Severus deposited a large slice of pork on Harry's plate. “I wanted to ask you about what happened when you took the Veritaserum.”

Harry nodded. “It was really weird.”

Severus raised an eyebrow. “'Weird'?” he repeated. “Ingesting one of the most powerful known mental potions is 'weird'?”

“Well, it was,” Harry said, grabbing the gravy boat. “Sort of like being under Imperius, but I wasn't all calm and happy. And I don't think I could've fought it off like the curse. It was really important that I tell the truth.”

Severus nodded. “The Imperius curse can be fought with nothing more than force of will. Veritaserum requires a little more. But then, you already know that.”

“Occlumency,” Harry sighed, “and there's an antidote, right?”

“Yes, but that's not what I want to talk about. I need to know what you admitted whilst under the influence of Veritaserum,” Severus said, taking the gravy boat off Harry.

“Just what happened in the graveyard,” Harry said, before finally beginning to eat. 

“You did not mention the prophecy?”

“Nope, no prophecy. Nothing about the connection I have with Voldemort – oh, but I did mention that our wands share a core. Is that a bad thing?” Harry looked over the table nervously.

“I shouldn't imagine so,” Severus mused.

Harry relaxed. “As soon as I'd finished telling them what happened in the graveyard Draco called the whole thing off. A few people tried to argue, but Pansy and Nerissa backed him up.”

Severus smiled in satisfaction. “I had expected that your friends would end it as soon as they could.”

“Bit of a gamble, wasn't it?” Harry asked. “I mean, Zubeida suggested that they only let the Prefects ask questions, but you had no way of knowing that.”

“Not specifically, but I trusted your friends to protect you. Witnessing you face a room full of Slytherins whilst under the influence of Veritaserum was bound to bring out their protective instincts,” Severus said. “No doubt one of them would have been ready to clap their hand over your mouth or cast a Silencing Charm on you should you have been asked about anything dangerous.”

Harry nodded, remembering the way both Draco and Theo had stayed with him and the rest of the Quidditch team. “So what now?”

“Now we eat dinner so that you may go and complete your homework and I can supervise Pansy and Blaise's detention,” Severus said, taking a sip of his wine.

“You mean help them with their Potions homework, right?” Harry asked.

“That is the agreement,” Severus said. 

“Good. What's the plan for Umbridge now?” Harry asked.

“For now, nothing. The story of what you did yesterday has been heard by everyone at Hogwarts, which is a fair effort at discrediting the Ministry's line of propaganda. She'll be on the back foot after such an unexpected turn of events,” Severus said smugly. 

“We just wait and see?” Harry asked in dismay. “I'm terrible at waiting and seeing!”

Severus pierced him with a sharp look. “Then learn. And whatever you do, make sure you keep your mouth shut in her classes.

********

  
Hermione frowned at Harry and Draco. “I wish I'd been Sorted into Slytherin, you're having all the fun this year.”

It was late morning on Saturday, the first time the boys had been able to see Hermione outside of class. They were sitting near the lake, leaning against their usual rock and eating through a box of sweets Narcissa had sent Draco. Harry had filled the others in on why Hagrid still hadn't returned to Hogwarts, then Draco had told Hermione how the Veritaserum interrogation had gone, since she wanted to verify what she'd already heard through the school gossip network.

“Did you miss the part where Theo and I had to slice our hands open for seven hours?” Harry asked.

“No, of course not,” Hermione said, disgust flashing across her face. “How could I forget something as vile as that? But at least you've stood up to her! And you used Veritaserum; I wish I could have seen that.”

“Yeah, well, as far as I know we're not doing anything else anytime soon,” Harry said. “Dad's said to lie low for a while, to see what Umbridge does next.”

Hermione cleared her throat. “Actually, I've had an idea.”

“What?” asked Harry, pulling the box of sweets across the grass to see what was left.

“Well, it's about our Defence classes. It's absolutely ridiculous that we've had such a useless teacher thrust upon us, especially this year!” Hermione said hotly.

“No arguments there,” Draco said.

Harry shook his head absently, still rooting through the box.

“And I thought that we need to find someone who can teach us properly – not just for OWLs, but to actually defend ourselves should we need to,” she went on. “Because we know what's out there – _who's_ out there – and we need to learn proper defensive spells so that we at least have a chance of surviving!”

Harry pulled out a cupcake triumphantly. “Yeah, but who? Remus can't come back, and I can't see Umbridge leaving here even if he could.”

“No, I'm not talking about anyone in the Order,” Hermione said. “I'm talking about you.”

Harry froze in the middle of unwrapping his cupcake. “Me?”

“Yes,” Hermione said.

“Me?” Harry repeated. “Teach?”

“Yes,” Hermione said firmly.

Harry laughed. “Don't be stupid.”

“What's stupid about it?” Draco asked slowly.

Harry stopped laughing. “Wait, you agree with her?”

“Well, who else is there?” Draco asked. 

Harry stared at his two best friends. “Why me? Why don't we just study in a big group? We could sneak you into the dorm under my Cloak, lock out Greg and Vince, and practise spells.”

“Harry, that's exactly what I'm talking about! Well, not sneaking into your dorm – we'd need to hold lessons somewhere else – but it wouldn't be too different from when we study together, would it?” Hermione asked earnestly. “You'd just be taking more of an active role, that's all.”

“I can't teach,” Harry said.

Draco laughed. “Are you kidding me? You taught me Parseltongue! _And_ you've been teaching Tracey and Theo about Muggle stuff since first year, _and_ now you're helping everyone with Potions. I'm beginning to think this is an excellent idea.”

Hermione beamed, but Harry frowned. “Draco, I lived in the Muggle world for a decade, it's not exactly hard to tell Theo and Tracey about ATMs and traffic lights. And my dad's the Potions teacher, of course I've picked up extra stuff. This is completely different.”

“How?” Draco asked.

Harry gaped at him. “Because I wouldn't know what I was doing!”

“Really?” Hermione asked. “Harry, you have the best Defence marks in the year.”

“Yeah, but that's just tests and stuff,” Harry protested.

“Yes, and you've used that 'stuff' to save your life, haven't you?” Hermione asked. “You fought off two Dementors with your Patronus, didn't you?”

“I was getting adopted that day, I was already in a really good mood,” Harry said weakly.

“What about in the graveyard? You held off the Dark Lord himself long enough to escape,” Draco pointed out.

“I had help from the wand thing,” Harry said.

“You fought a basilisk -” Hermione began.

“ _Dad_ fought the basilisk,” Harry interrupted.

“Then what about Quirrell?” Draco asked loudly.

“What about him? You were both with me!”

“No, we weren't. Not at the end. That was all you,” Draco said.

“Yeah, and the blood protection that Mum gave me,” Harry said.

“Yes, and what did you do when you realised your touch hurt Quirrell?” Draco asked. “You immediately used that knowledge to overcome him, didn't you?”

“I got lucky. How many people do you know who'd have the same protection that I have?” Harry asked.

“Maybe none,” Draco admitted, “but you said yourself that the potion the Dark Lord used to return has negated that protection and you still managed to survive him.”

“Yeah, but I didn't know what I was doing!” Harry burst out. “I was terrified, I wasn't thinking – I wanted to come back as a ghost, for fuck's sake – it was all just instinct! Voldemort aims a wand at you, you duck out of the way before he can torture you again.”

“If it's all just luck and instinct like you say, do you think Crabbe or Goyle would've been able to do any of the things you've done?” Draco asked.

Harry snorted. “Fat chance.”

“Then you're admitting that you _did_ do something!” Draco crowed. 

Harry shot him a dirty look, but before he could say anything, Hermione laid a hand on his arm. 

“Harry, why won't you admit that you've done some pretty amazing things?” she asked gently. “You have skills that I don't think anyone else our age has – Viktor was impressed by some of what you did in the Tournament last year, you know.”

“Yeah, and there's no way he said that so you'd go out with him,” Harry said sarcastically. 

“Why's this got you so annoyed?” Draco asked. “You never have a problem if someone praises your flying skills. Why's this different?”

“Because it _is_ different!” Harry snapped. “Neither of you know what it's like. You think it was bad in the Shrieking Shack, when we were trapped with a full blown werewolf? We had four adults there to protect us! Have you ever been so scared, so panicked, that your brain stops thinking clearly? No! I was staring at Voldemort, knowing he was going to torture me or kill me, and I couldn't think of a single way to get out of there! I just acted on instinct. I used the first spell I could think of and luckily for me, it worked out. It could have very, very easily not have worked out like that! I could've memorised a bunch of spells – hell, I just had done, for the third task – and I still could've died there, alone in that graveyard with a bunch of arseholes laughing at my death!”

Draco took Harry's hand but seemed unable to think of anything to say to that. 

Hermione leaned forward. “Harry, I know. I know I have no idea what it would've been like – not apart from what you've told me. Don't you see? This is why it needs to be you: because you know what it's like to face V-Voldemort.”

Both boys froze when Hermione said the name.

“Please, Harry. Surely some of what we're saying is making sense? We might not stand much of a chance against V-Voldemort with you teaching us, but it's better than no chance at all with Umbridge, isn't it?” Hermione asked softly.

Harry stared out across the lake, remembering the conversation he'd had with Severus over summer, when he'd asked why Severus wanted the Defence position so much. “Personal experience is not something a book can teach you,” he whispered.

“What?” Draco asked.

Harry shook his head. “Nothing. Just something Dad said. I'll – I'll think about, okay? I'm not making any promises, but I'll think about it.”

Hermione beamed at him. “Thank you.”

Harry reached across Draco to snag the last chocolate. “I suppose you're going to ask Neville if he'd be interested?”

“Er...”

“Hermione,” Harry said warningly.

“I was thinking of a few more people, to tell you the truth,” she said.

“How many?” Harry asked.

“Just whoever's interested,” she said.

Harry nodded slowly. “I'll let you know next week.”

Hermione knew him better than to push the subject any more that day. Draco had picked up on her earlier mention of Viktor, and tried to begin teasing Hermione about him.

“So how is dear Viktor?” he asked with a smirk.

“He's perfectly fine, thank you,” Hermione said calmly.

Draco slumped down when she didn't rise to the bait. “Good to hear,” he muttered.

Harry grinned. “So when are you going to see him again?”

“Christmas, hopefully. My parents want to go skiing, and I thought I might see if Viktor could join us, if he's not too busy training,” Hermione said.

“What's skiing?” Draco asked.

“A Muggle sport. You strap your feet onto long, thin boards and propel yourself down a snow-covered slope with two spears,” Hermione explained. “It's a lot of fun, though I'm not very good.”

Draco stared at her, then turned to Harry. “Is she having me on?”

“She's telling the truth. Skiing's a real sport,” Harry assured him.

“But that sounds insane! Have you done it?” Draco asked him.

Harry snorted. “Are you kidding? Skiing doesn't involve beating up small children, so Dudley's never wanted to go. And even if he did, the Dursleys wouldn't've taken me with them.”

Draco continued to eye Hermione suspiciously, who just smiled innocently back at him. “Muggles are weird,” he muttered.

“That statement would have more weight if I didn't know for a fact you spent most of the holidays watching movies,” Hermione said, making Harry laugh.

“Movies are brilliant and watching them is not at all insane,” Draco said, sticking his nose in the air.

“No, but watching the same one every day for a fortnight is,” Hermione shot back.

“Which movie was that?” Harry asked, lying down on his side.

“It was more than one movie, Granger,” Draco cried. “I just rented all the ones the store had about vampires, that's all,” he told Harry. “Did you know that Muggles have an entire genre of vampire movies?”

“Well, yeah,” Harry said.

“And you never thought to tell me that?”

“Never really thought about it.”

“Some boyfriend you are,” Draco sniffed.

********

  
After a fairly relaxing Saturday spent outside with Hermione, Harry and Draco had to spend all of Sunday catching up on their homework. They weren't the only ones. The common room was crowded with fifth and seventh years, studying in groups or by themselves, occasionally getting up to go to the library.

“I've had enough,” Draco announced after a few hours.

Harry looked up from his Herbology essay. “You and the rest of the year. I can't wait for OWLs to be over.”

Draco snapped his textbook shut. “Come for a walk with me.”

“Sure,” Harry said, jumping at the chance to get away from his essay.

“Sounds good, my brain's about to leak out of my ears,” Pansy said.

Draco looked startled. “I – I just meant Harry, actually.”

Millicent smirked. “Oh, so when you said 'walk', what you really meant was -”

“Yes, thank you, Bulstrode,” Draco said hastily.

“I'd avoid the Astronomy Tower if I were you, Blaise went up there earlier tonight and hasn't come back,” Daphne said.

“Who with?” Pansy asked immediately.

“I'm a little less clichéd than Blaise, thank you very much,” Draco replied.

“Marietta Edgecombe,” Daphne told Pansy.

Harry and Draco picked up their homework as Pansy began to further question Daphne. Harry was silent until they'd dumped their stuff in the dorm, picked up Harry's Cloak and the Marauder's Map, and escaped into the dungeon corridors.

“Why can't we just snog in the dorm?” he asked as they climbed the stairs to the Entrance Hall.

Draco glanced at him. “Because I don't want to 'just snog'.”

Harry felt his cheeks heat up. “Oh.”

“I didn't mean like that – not entirely, anyway,” Draco clarified, as they began climbing the stairs out of the hall. “It's just that all this plotting against Umbridge has been exhausting, don't you think?”

Harry shot him an amused look. “As if you didn't love every second of it.”

“Of course I did. But it was also quite stressful, you know. I had a lot of factors to account for.”

“I seem to recall that there were other people involved in the planning,” Harry drawled.

Draco raised an eyebrow. “Do you want me to tell you where we're going, or do you want to keep arguing with me?”

“You're pretty hot when you're annoyed, so I'm good either way,” Harry said complacently.

“Prat.”

“Okay, okay, where are we going?”

“Prefects' bathroom,” Draco said smugly.

“Pre – oh. Ohh,” Harry said.

Draco smirked at him. “Exactly. What better way to unwind after such a busy week than with a nice, relaxing soak?”

“But I didn't bring my bathers,” Harry said weakly.

“You won't need them,” said Draco.

Harry swallowed.

“Is that a problem?” Draco asked innocently.

“N – no,” Harry stuttered.

“Hurry up then,” Draco said.

They walked the rest of the way in silence. Harry, at least, couldn't think of a single thing to say; all thought seemed to have left his head at the prospect of skinny dipping with Draco.

“Effervescent,” Draco said, then led Harry into the bathroom. “That's the password for the entire year, by the way. Apparently it's never occurred to anyone that non-Prefects might try to sneak in here. We may as well just invite the rabble to make themselves at home.”

Harry paused in the process of turning on taps to look at Draco. “Like you just did with me?”

“That's different,” Draco said, coming over to help Harry fill the bath.

“Uh huh,” Harry said, straightening back up. “Can you get rid of the mermaid? I'm not skinny dipping in front of her.”

Draco eyed the mermaid in her painting, where she was watching them curiously. He said something to her in Mermish, making her giggle. Harry tried not to wince at the shrieking of their conversation as he waited for the bath to fill. He swore when he realised that neither of them had locked the door, and let Draco take care of turning off all the taps as he walked over to bolt the door. 

He turned back around and froze. Draco had not only gotten rid of the mermaid and turned off the taps, but mostly undressed, too. Harry watched, dry-mouthed, as Draco slid his pants down and stepped out of them. His eyes travelled unbidden down Draco's back, stopping when he got to his arse.

He'd seen Draco's arse before, of course, in the dorm, but that was different: everyone got changed as quickly as they could, not wanting to stay naked down in the chilly dungeons, and there was usually someone else around. Even if Harry had wanted to stare at Draco from across the room – and there were times that he swore Draco deliberately got changed slowly when he knew Harry was around – he would have been far too embarrassed to do so. One of his friends would have been certain to catch him and tease him for it.

Here, however, Harry and Draco were completely, marvellously, wondrously alone, and Harry could look at Draco as much as he wanted to. The candlelight of the room gave Draco's skin a golden colour, making it look soft and warm and very much something Harry wanted to touch.

“Are you coming?” Draco asked.

Harry jerked his head up, aware he'd just been caught ogling Draco's arse. “Guh,” he said articulately, stumbling forward.

Draco just laughed. “Hurry up,” he said, then slid into the bath.

Harry did as he was told, undressing as fast as he could whilst his brain was on vacation. He managed to gently rest his glasses on the top of his clothes, then more or less fell into the bath. He emerged spitting water and bubbles to find Draco laughing at him again.

“How the fuck you managed to get me, Hermione and Gabrielle out of the lake last year is beyond me,” he said.

“Viktor helped,” Harry said, proud to produce actual words this time.

Draco didn't seem to appreciate what a feat that was. “Just don't drown on me, Potter. I'm not running for help in the nude.”

“Going to give me another swimming lesson?” Harry shot back.

“Not right now,” Draco said, paddling closer.

“Guess I'll just have to cling onto you for support then,” Harry said.

Draco's lips curled up. “I guess you will.”


	15. In Which the Students Band Together Against Umbridge, Who Finds Out Almost Immediately

On Thursday, as soon as classes were over for the day, Harry and Draco met Hermione on the seventh floor corridor to celebrate her birthday in the Room of Requirement.

“It's lovely,” Hermione said happily, looking around the sunny meadow Harry had asked the room for.

“Thanks,” Harry said proudly. “Now sit.”

Hermione obediently knelt down on the picnic rug spread on the lush green grass. Draco pulled the cover off the tray sitting in the middle of the blanket to reveal a small vanilla birthday cake, courtesy of the Hogwarts house-elves. The sixteen candles on it lit themselves as soon as the cake was uncovered and the boys sang “Happy Birthday”. Hermione blew out the candles and sat back with a smile as Harry cut them all a piece.

“So, sixteen. You know what that means, don't you? You have one year left in which to murder the Weasel, before you get tried as an adult,” Draco said. “Once you turn seventeen you'd be looking at Azkaban for that.”

“I'll keep that in mind,” Hermione said drily.

Harry rolled his eyes at his boyfriend and handed Hermione her present.

“Thank you,” she said, setting her plate down. She opened up her gift to find a Bulgarian phrase book and a separate dictionary.

“They were so that you could write to him, but I guess now you can use them if you end up meeting Viktor over Christmas,” Harry explained. 

“Thanks, Harry, this is really -” Hermione stopped when Draco leaned over and snatched the phrase book from her hands, “- thoughtful.”

“Sorry, here,” Draco said, passing her his own present without looking up from the book.

Hermione shared an exasperated glance with Harry before she opened up her present to reveal a set of different coloured inks, along with a short, white peacock feather quill.

“It's gorgeous, thank you, Draco,” she said, lifting up a bottle of magenta ink to the light.

“You're welcome,” he said distractedly, parsing through the dictionary.

Hermione put the ink back down among the other bottles and picked up her plate again. “So, Harry, have you given any more thought to my idea? Of you teaching us Defence?”

Draco put the book down at that, and Harry was met with the expectant stares of both of his best friends.

“Er, yeah, I have,” he said vaguely, taking another bite of cake. 

He'd been hoping she wouldn't bring the topic up today – he would have liked some more time to think about it, but... He couldn't deny that it held a certain appeal. Sure, a lot of the time he thought Hermione and Draco had lost their minds, but at other times, he found himself drawn to the idea of teaching what he knew. He'd even spent History of Magic the day before coming up with a rough idea of what he would like to teach.

“And?” Hermione asked hopefully.

Harry picked at his slice of cake, procrastinating. “Well... How many people are we talking?”

“Not that many,” Hermione said quickly, “and they're all people who are genuinely interested in hearing what you have to say.”

Harry chewed on his lower lip as he stared at her. “Okay.”

“Really?” Hermione gasped.

Draco dropped the book to gawk at Harry. “You mean it?”

Harry nodded uncertainly. “Yeah, I think so. I mean... Yeah, I do. I just... I have no idea what I'm supposed to do about this – how to organise anything.”

Hermione laid a hand on his arm. “I've got it all under control, Harry. The only thing you have to worry about is what to teach us; I'll sort out who's coming and where we're meeting.”

Harry nodded slowly. “So when are we doing this?”

“I was thinking we could meet during the first Hogsmeade weekend. Not a long meeting, just a quick one to get the group together and get the numbers finalised... It's two weeks away, I'll have everything organised by then,” Hermione said confidently.

“If you say so,” Harry said. “Why then, by the way?”

Hermione shrugged. “I've checked the rules, and while this won't break any of them, I doubt Umbridge would be very happy if she found out, do you?”

“Not when you say it like that,” Harry said.

“Exactly. So we hold our first meeting off campus, where she has less chance of finding out what we're up to,” Hermione said smugly.

“Seems sound to me,” Draco said, cutting another slice of cake.

Harry nodded his agreement. “Thanks, Hermione.”

She smiled wickedly at him. “No need to thank me. It's a lot of fun, planning on defying her like this, don't you think?”

“You've broken heaps of rules with us in the past,” Harry pointed out.

“Yes, but this is different! This is far more important than sneaking into your dorm... She's not just jeopardising our education, but our safety! And I wasn't there for the Veritaserum, or your class rebellion against her... I want to be involved this time, take a more active role in things,” Hermione declared.

Harry shrugged. “You don't need our permission.”

Hermione snorted. “Of course I don't. I never have.”

********

  
Harry was a little nervous as he walked down to Hogsmeade with Draco and Hermione. This had seemed like a good idea when he'd been talking to them, but now that the day had finally arrived, he was feeling a little doubtful that anyone would even turn up.

“It'll be fine, Harry,” Hermione said quietly.

Harry instinctively looked around them, to make sure that no one else was in earshot. “There are so many ways this could turn out badly.”

“It won't,” Hermione said confidently. 

Harry frowned, unconvinced. “Where are we meeting, anyway?”

“The Hog's Head,” she replied.

“The Hog's Head? Have you ever been inside there? It's dodgy as hell!” Harry exclaimed.

“It's less crowded than the Three Broomsticks, so there will be less chance of us being overheard,” Hermione said.

Harry's frown deepened. “When Dad picked me up from the Leaky Cauldron a couple of years ago, he refused to tell me where he was taking me while we were there because he was worried about being overheard in a pub.”

“Where would you have us meet, then?” Draco asked.

Harry shrugged. “Middle of a field, maybe? Might look a bit suss but at least we'd be able to see if anyone was eavesdropping.”

Hermione's confidence wavered a little, but she shook her head. “It's too late now, everyone's meeting in the Hog's Head. And while I'd prefer it if we weren't overheard, I've checked the rules and there's nothing against organising extra-curricular groups. Or going into the Hog's Head, although Flitwick did vehemently recommend that I bring my own glass.”

Harry was even more doubtful than before, but he didn't say anything. Like Hermione said, it was too late to back out now.

The Hog's Head was just as unwelcoming as it had been when Harry had been there with Sirius. Dingy, poorly lit and filthy, Harry wasn't sure how it stayed in business, apart from the fact that it seemed like the perfect place to conduct less than legal activities. 

The clientele was just as unsavoury as they'd been last Harry had been in there. Seated at the bar was a man who, despite having his entire head wrapped in grimy bandages, was downing glass after glass of something flaming; two hooded figures muttered together at a shadowy table; and a witch entirely covered by a black veil sat half-hidden in a corner by the fire. Harry eyed them all suspiciously, but none of them paid the slightest attention to the three teenagers.

Draco went to order three Butterbeers, giving a wide berth to the bandaged fellow, leaving Harry to follow Hermione to a table as far from the bar as possible. They sat down with a clear view of the door and tried to act casual. Draco joined them a minute later and they waited in silence for people to begin arriving. 

The door burst open with a bang and Scarlett bounded inside, followed more calmly by Archie and Luna. 

“Scarlett Lympsham, reporting for duty, sir!” she chirped, saluting Harry before plopping into a chair.

“Shh!” hissed Draco.

Scarlett stuck her tongue out at him and looked around the room. “You think that barman's the one all the older kids get booze from?”

“He used to be, if he isn't any more,” Harry said without thinking.

“Huh?” Scarlett asked.

“Dad and Sirius used to get Firewhisky off him when they were underage,” Harry explained.

“Harry!” Hermione said. “Scarlett, you can't buy alcohol. You're far too young.”

“Plus you look like you're twelve, you'd never get served, even in here,” added Draco.

Scarlett ignored them and gazed thoughtfully at the barman. 

Hermione turned to Draco. “You're a Prefect and your only response is to tell her not to try because she's too young to get away with it?”

Draco didn't have a chance to reply to that, as the door opened again and let in another, larger group of students. Theo and Tracey came in first, followed by Pansy, Millicent and Daphne. Her sister Astoria was next, with her best friend Viola Richmond. Hot on their heels was Malcolm, then Adrian, Zubeida, Nerissa, Bastien and Vikram; the Creevey brothers looked almost as excited as Scarlett; Neville walked in with Hannah, Susan, Ernie and Justin; Blaise strolled in holding hands with Marietta, who was listening unhappily to whatever Cho was saying to her; Ginny came in with Michael Corner, Terry Boot and Anthony; the Weasley twins and Lee were followed by the three Gryffindor Chasers; Padma and Morag were followed by, of all people, Cedric and Elizabeth.

Harry stared at the Head Boy and Girl as Cedric shut the door.

“We're the last,” Elizabeth said over the noise of everyone finding a seat.

The two hooded figures left in a huff, clearly put out by the influx of students. Harry didn't blame them.

“You spoke to all these people single-handedly, did you?” Harry muttered to Hermione.

“Of course not. Pansy helped,” Hermione said.

Fred had been counting the crowd. “We need forty-three Butterbeers, please,” he told Aberforth, then turned to the crowd. “Pay up, you lot.”

Harry just sat and watched as everyone sorted out payment and reorganised their seating. He couldn't remember a single thing he'd been thinking about talking about.

“What is everyone wanting me to do?” he asked Hermione nervously. “What have you and Pansy told them?”

“They just want to hear what you've got to say. I'll speak first,” she assured him.

Finally, everyone settled down and turned their attention to Harry.

“Er, well, hello, everybody,” Hermione said shakily.

The crowd's attention switched to her, though people kept shooting looks at Harry, and Luna seemed entranced by the rafters.

“So, er, now that you're all here, we can... We can start,” Hermione said. She took a hasty swig of her Butterbeer before continuing. “Er, thank you all for coming. It's very... It's very heartening to see so many people want to study Defence Against the Dark Arts – properly study it, I mean, not read that pathetic book Umbridge has forced upon us.”

“Hear, hear!” Anthony called.

Hermione smiled slightly and when she spoke again, her voice was stronger. “It's obvious that we're not going to learn anything during class, so I thought it was time that we did it ourselves.” She paused again and glanced at Harry, as did most of the group. “And that means we learn to defend ourselves, learn how to perform the spells we should be learning in class, and not just the theory behind them.”

“You do still want to pass your exams though, don't you?” Elizabeth asked. There was much nodding amongst the Ravenclaws at that.

“Of course I do,” Hermione said. “But... There are some things more important than exams, more important than school work.”

Harry and Draco looked at each other, startled to hear Hermione say such a thing.

“I'm talking about being taught how to defend ourselves against Voldemort,” Hermione said in a rush. A shudder ran around the room at the name. Hermione ignored it. “All we need to do now is decide the logistics of it all.”

“Hang on,” Michael interrupted. “How are we sure that You-Know-Who really is back?”

“Did you not hear about the Veritaserum we gave Harry?” Pansy demanded.

“I heard about the Veritaserum you Slytherins _say_ you gave Harry,” Michael replied.

Next to him, Ginny tossed her hair over her shoulder and glared at him. “If you're calling Harry a liar, you can leave right now.”

Michael quailed. “I just meant -”

Adrian got to his feet. “This is never going to work if you lot don't trust Harry just because he's a Slytherin.”

“Personally, I don't care if he's telling the truth or not,” Nerissa announced. “I believe him, but even if he is lying, does that mean he can't teach us a thing or two? I've heard some pretty impressive things about this kid.”

Harry looked at her in surprise, but smiled thankfully. 

“Can you really cast a corporeal Patronus?” Susan asked.

“Er, yeah, I can. Dad taught me in third year,” Harry said.

“Third year!” Lee exclaimed.

“How do you know about that?” Draco demanded.

“My aunt's Amelia Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement,” Susan said. “She told me about you fighting off those Dementors.”

“Dementors?” Padma asked.

“My cousin and I got attacked over the summer,” Harry said briefly.

“And the only reason he didn't end up getting arrested for using underage magic is because of my aunt,” Susan said proudly.

“And my mother,” Draco said pointedly.

“You nearly got arrested?” Fred asked.

“Er, yeah,” Harry said. “Fudge wanted to break my wand and tried to expel me from Hogwarts.”

“Wow,” George said. He wasn't the only person who seemed to think this law breaking was a good quality to have in their prospective teacher. Quite a few people were nodding, impressed.

“And in our first year he saved the Philosopher's Stone from You-Know-Who,” piped up Neville.

“And he killed a basilisk in second year,” Archie added.

“That was mostly my dad,” Harry said, but no one paid any attention.

“Not to mention everything he did during the Triwizard Tournament,” Cedric added with a grin.

“And he told You-Know-Who to fuck off!” Scarlett said.

“Yes, he's very impressive,” Pansy said bossily. “But do we all want to have him teach us? Have we finally agreed on that?”

There was widespread nodding at this.

“Brilliant,” Hermione said in relief. “All we need to do now is decide how often – I'm thinking once a week -”

“It can't clash with Quidditch practise,” Angelina said at once.

“We'll work around you – around all four teams,” Hermione hastened to add. “Although this really is far more important than Quidditch. This could save our lives.”

“Quite right, Hermione, quite right,” Ernie said pompously. “Frankly, I don't understand why the Ministry has employed such a worthless professor. Obviously they're denying the return of You-Know-Who, but we've never had a teacher who refused to teach us the spells we were reading about!”

“Fudge thinks Dumbledore's training us all into his private army, so he can take on the Ministry,” Harry said.

The crowd looked variously stunned or amused by this titbit.

Except for Luna. “That's only fair. Why should Fudge be the only person allowed his own army?”

“Fudge has an army?” Astoria asked.

“He hasn't got an army,” Hermione said.

“Yes, he has, he's got an army of Heliopaths,” Luna said.

“No, he hasn't,” Hermione snapped.

“What's a Heliopath?” Scarlett asked.

“They're fire spirits,” Luna said, widening her eyes and waving her arms in the air in an approximation of flames, “that are as tall as a giraffe and burn everything they touch.”

“Cool,” breathed Scarlett.

“They don't exist,” Hermione said.

“Yes, they do. Just because _you_ haven't seen one, doesn't mean they aren't real,” Luna said. “Maybe if you got your nose out of a book for once and really looked at the world around you -”

“Hem, hem,” Ginny coughed. She sounded so much like Umbridge that quite a few people jumped in alarm, before laughing at themselves. “We were deciding on when to meet?”

“Once a week should do, at least to begin with,” Millicent said.

“Yes, because we have four different Quidditch practises to work around,” Cho said.

“But where? I mean, we're rather a large group,” Bastien said.

“I've got the perfect place,” Draco said smugly.

“Where?” Colin asked eagerly.

“Not so fast,” Hermione said, pulling a piece of parchment and a quill out of her bag. “I want everyone here to sign this. By doing so, you're agreeing not to tell Umbridge about this group.”

“Why?” asked Justin.

“Mutually assured destruction,” Theo said with a grin. “You blab to the toad, and we show that you were in the group too.”

There was rather a lot of panicked muttering at that.

“I'm not signing that!” Ernie protested.

“Didn't you just say how important this group is?” Millicent asked.

“Well, yes, but... Some of us are Prefects!” Ernie said.

“And some of us aren't stupid enough to sign something a Slytherin tells us to,” Terry added.

“I'm a Gryffindor,” Hermione said.

“All your friends are Slytherins,” Anthony countered.

“If you keep insulting Slytherins we'll drop the other three houses and hold meetings in our common room,” Draco sneered.

“Yeah, you can fend for yourselves when it comes to exams,” Vikram said.

“Or You-Know-Who,” said Malcolm.

Cedric cleared his throat and rose to his feet. “I'd like to say a few words, if that's alright, Hermione?”

Hermione blinked at him, since he was the first person who hadn't just butted in. “Go ahead.”

Cedric nodded at her, then turned to the rest of the group. “We need to stop insulting the Slytherins – and everyone else – based on which house they're in. We'll never achieve anything if we're fighting amongst ourselves like this. Personally, I'm reassured by the fact that this group – the group we're trying to keep hidden from Umbridge – is being run by the sneakiest house at Hogwarts.”

Laughter ran around the room, though it quickly died off when Cedric frowned slightly.

“As for Harry,” he continued, and Harry shifted in his seat, “I can't think of anyone better to teach us. I was there when he got yanked out of that maze by the Portkey. He was covered in blood and leaning on a crutch – and no offence, Harry, but you looked like you wouldn't survive a fight with a first year.”

“None taken,” Harry said, bemused.

“And yet he still managed to survive You-Know-Who and get back to Hogwarts. Unless there's anyone else here who can claim something similar, I say we listen to him and do whatever he says. If he says sign the parchment, sign the bloody parchment. Unless you're planning on betraying the rest of the group, what do you have to worry about?”

Cedric finished his little speech by walking over to Hermione, taking her quill and signing his name at the top of the parchment.

“Our Head Boy, ladies and gentlemen,” Fred said, clapping slowly.

“And Head Girl,” Elizabeth added, standing up to take the quill off Cedric.

There were no more objections after Cedric's speech. Everyone signed the parchment, though Harry noticed that Marietta didn't look too happy when she took the quill off Blaise. He wondered fleetingly what Blaise saw in her. Finally, Hermione, Draco and then Harry signed the parchment and the members all looked at each other.

“I'll get in touch with everyone to tell you all when the first lesson will be held,” Hermione said.

George nodded. “Sounds good. If that's all, Fred and Lee and I need to be off.”

The group swiftly departed, leaving the dingy Hog's Head for the sunshine outside. Hermione carefully rolled up the parchment and tucked it securely into her bag, then led Harry and Draco out of the pub. The boys drank their Butterbeer as they followed Hermione back onto High Street.

“I need a new quill, that peacock one is far too extravagant for class,” she said, walking across the road to Scrivenshaft Quill Shop. She lowered her voice as she perused the shelves of quills. “That went well, I think.”

“Thanks to Cedric,” Harry said. “I think we would've split into a group of Slytherins and the rest of the school if he hadn't spoken up.”

“Hmm, well, Pansy and I tried to ask anyone we thought might be able to see past house colours. I think it all worked out,” Hermione said, picking up a black quill and taking it to the register.

“Did it, though?” Draco asked when they were outside again.

Harry frowned at him. “What are you talking about?”

“I'm talking about the fact that there's nothing to stop anyone from spilling everything to Umbridge!” Draco hissed. “I know we've got that list of names, but anyone with half a brain could work out a deal with Umbridge and get off in exchange for dobbing in everyone else.”

A chill swept over Harry. “They could. Hell, that's how Karkaroff got out of Azkaban, he sold out all the other Death Eaters.”

“They can't do it to us,” Hermione said quietly.

“Why not?” demanded Draco. 

“Because the piece of parchment everyone just signed is heavily jinxed,” she said smugly.

“It is?” Harry asked. Surely he should have felt something when he signed it?

“Yes, Tracey, Theo and I did it together,” Hermione said.

“What's it jinxed with?” asked Harry.

Hermione checked no one was listening to them. “Well, for a start, I put a jinx on it that means if anyone tries to tell a teacher about the group, they'll get the worst case of boils on their face you've ever seen.”

“Boils?” Draco repeated dismissively. “Don't get me wrong, Granger, I love revenge as much as anyone, but shouldn't you have done something to stop them dobbing in the first place?”

“That's what Theo said,” Hermione answered, “which is why he added a Tongue-Tying Curse. People literally cannot tell a teacher about the group. If they try, their tongue will tie itself up inside their mouth until they change the subject – or notice my jinx spreading across their face.”

Draco whistled appreciatively. “That's more like it.”

Harry looked between his two best friends, who were smirking at each other. “Er, aren't you forgetting something?”

“What?” asked Draco.

“Oh, just the fact that my dad's a teacher. You're going to force me to lie to him, Hermione, and when Dad offered to adopt me he specifically said he wants me to be honest with him!” Harry explained. “It's pretty much the only rule he's given me, along with keeping my wand on me.”

“Already taken into account,” she said calmly.

“Really?” he asked in surprise.

Hermione nodded. “I know you don't want to lie to him, and as it happens, that may come in handy.”

“How?” Harry asked suspiciously.

“Tracey mentioned that we might need to speak to a teacher about the group – and of course then I thought we might need to speak to a member of the Order. Snape fulfils both criteria. So I altered the spells we used, making you an exception. You can speak to Snape about the group if you need to – but only him, so don't try talking to McGonagall or Hagrid, or you'll get hit just like anyone else would,” Hermione warned him.

“Why would we need to talk to a teacher?” asked Draco.

Hermione shrugged. “I don't know, that was Tracey's suggestion. But it can't hurt to have this up our sleeve, just in case something goes wrong.”

Draco nodded slowly, and Hermione beamed at him before looking at Harry uncertainly. “Harry? Is that okay with you?”

Harry flung an arm around Hermione's shoulders. “It's brilliant, Hermione. You're a genius.”

“Like I said, it was Tracey's idea,” Hermione said.

“Stop being modest,” Harry scolded her. “You're the one who changed the spells. If it was anyone else I wouldn't risk it, in case they'd done a crap job. But if you've done it I won't need to worry.”

“Yes, well, as I said, it doesn't hurt to have this one avenue open to us should we need it,” Hermione said. “Just don't mention it to anyone else, alright? Apart from the three of us, Tracey and Theo are the only ones who know about it. Everyone else is to remain ignorant. Some of the older students could potentially find a way to counter the protections if they become aware of their existence.”

********

  
Having spent most of Saturday at Hogsmeade, Harry again had to spend Sunday catching up on his homework. Luckily, the weather was still bright and sunny, so he took his textbooks down to the lake. He was joined by Draco, Hermione and Neville, though Hermione of course was already up to date on all of her work. Instead, she pulled out Viktor's latest letter and began laboriously writing out a long reply using her Bulgarian books from Harry, stopping every now and then to answer a question on the giant wars the boys were writing about.

Halfway through the afternoon Blaise walked around their rock and crouched down between Neville and Draco.

“You right there?” Draco asked, leaning back to look at him properly.

“Me? Oh, yeah, great,” Blaise said, his eyes darting around.

“You don't look it,” Neville said bluntly.

Blaise huffed. “If you must know, I dumped Marietta.”

“Let me guess, she's not taking it well?” Hermione asked.

“You could say that,” Blaise said. “Or you could say that she tried to hex me and has sworn revenge. Both statements are equally true.”

Harry stared at him. “What exactly did you say to her?”

Blaise shrugged. “Oh, you know, the usual... That we're looking for different things and she deserves someone who can give her what she wants... It's always worked out for me in the past, I don't understand why she's so mad. I usually stay on pretty good terms with the girls I date.”

“I'm sure she'll get over it soon,” Neville said encouragingly.

“Yeah, but in the meantime...” Blaise said darkly.

“In the meantime she might expose us all to Umbridge,” Harry said.

Blaise tilted his head in thought. “I don't think she will, actually. Not over me. Her best friend's in that group too, you know. I don't think you've got anything to worry about. Me, on the other hand...”

Hermione and Neville both nodded, but one glance at Draco told Harry he was as worried as he was.

********

  
Harry's fears were confirmed the next morning when he walked into the common room. There was a large group of people clustered around the notice board, unusual for so early in the term. He wandered over and saw that the usual notices (the Quidditch team training schedule; dates of the Hogsmeade weekends; requests for study groups) had almost been completely covered by a large sign. Harry read it over the top of the heads of a couple of first years. 

  
_BY ORDER OF THE HIGH INQUISITOR OF HOGWARTS_

_All student organisations, societies, teams, groups and clubs are henceforth disbanded._

_An organisation, society, team, group or club is hereby defined as a regular meeting of three or more students._

_Permission to re-form may be sought from the High Inquisitor (Professor Umbridge)._

_No student organisation, society, team, group or club may exist without the knowledge and approval of the High Inquisitor._

_Any student found to have formed, or to belong to, an organisation, society, team, group or club that has not been approved by the High Inquisitor will be expelled._

_The above is in accordance with Educational Decree Number Twenty-four._

_Signed: Dolores Jane Umbridge, High Inquisitor_

A hand grabbed Harry's shoulder, and he spun around to find Draco reading quickly. “ _Fuck_ ," he hissed.

Harry merely nodded, not wanting to say anything more in front of the first years, and steered Draco back to the dorm. Theo had already gone up to breakfast, but the other three boys were still getting ready for breakfast. 

“We need to talk, Zabini,” Draco said ominously.

Blaise glanced over. “Give us a sec.”

Harry and Draco waited impatiently while Blaise got his school bag sorted.

“Alright, what's the problem?” Blaise asked, swinging his bag over his shoulder.

Harry looked over at Greg and Vince. “Not here.”

He led Blaise and Draco back to the noticeboard, where the crowd of anxious Slytherins was even larger than before. Blaise craned his neck to read the notice and nodded grimly when he was done. He spun on his heel and left the common room, Harry and Draco trailing behind him.

In the corridor Blaise made sure they were alone before speaking. “You think Marietta's blabbed to Umbridge because I dumped her.”

“Who else could it have been?” Harry asked.

“I'm telling you, I don't think she'd do anything to Cho – or the rest of you, really – just to get back at me,” Blaise said.

“We need to talk to Hermione,” Draco muttered.

They sped up their pace and soon reached the Great Hall. By the sound of the agitated conversations around them, the decree had been posted in all four house common rooms. Harry, Draco and Blaise sat down with Theo and the girls, who were talking about it. Harry very carefully didn't look up at the staff table; he didn't want to seem guilty to Umbridge.

“Are we still going ahead?” Millicent asked quietly.

Everyone looked at Harry expectantly.

“Of course we are,” he said firmly.

“How'd she find out?” Daphne asked nervously.

“Dunno. I'm going to go talk to Hermione,” Harry said, standing back up again. He looked across the hall at the Gryffindor table and swore. “Half the group's heading our way, they'll give us away for sure.”

Pansy let out a frustrated groan. “I knew it was a bad idea to let the other houses in, they have no concept of sneaking around properly. Oi, Scarlett!”

Scarlett looked up from further down the table. “What?”

“Go pretend to talk to Luna and tell all the Ravenclaws to stay at their own fucking table,” Pansy said, then turned to Blaise. “You go pretend to flirt with a Hufflepuff and tell them the same thing.”

“On it,” Blaise said, getting up again.

“Thanks, Pansy,” Harry said, grabbing a piece of toast on his way to the Gryffindor table. He walked over to Hermione and leaned over her shoulder. “You've heard the news, I take it?” he murmured in her ear.

“Yes,” Hermione said grimly. 

Across the table, Neville watched with interest.

“It must've been Edgecombe,” Harry said, reaching forward to flip over the front page of Hermione's copy of the _Daily Prophet_.

“It wasn't,” Hermione said, pretending to point out a story in the paper. “Trust me, if anyone in the group had told Umbridge, we'd know.”

“Then it must've been someone listening in,” Harry said. “There were two customers in that pub who stayed after we arrived.”

“It seems likely,” Hermione agreed. “And yes, I know you told us meeting in a pub was a bad idea.”

“I wasn't going -”

“I've told Ginny that the meetings will go ahead; she's letting the other Gryffindor members know,” Hermione went on.

Harry grinned. “Nice to see you're not having any doubts.”

“As if,” Hermione said. “I'm thinking we hold the meetings in the Room of Requirement. It's the only place I can think of that's large enough but also hidden enough.”

“That's a brilliant idea,” Harry said, then straightened up. “I better get back to my own table. See you, Neville.”

Harry walked past the other house tables and sat back down between Draco and Daphne. Scarlett was already back, and flashed him a satisfied grin, but Blaise was still absent.

“All sorted,” Harry said quietly. “As soon as I get the other Quidditch training times I'll organise our first lesson.”

“Umbridge doesn't look happy, which I guess means she hasn't seen any of us acting suspicious,” Daphne announced.

Harry turned around to see her fixing her hair in the reflection of her spoon.

“Your cutlery talking to you, is it?” Theo sniggered.

Daphne gave him a withering look. “I can see the staff table in the reflection, dummy.”

Theo opened his mouth to reply, but snapped it shut when a hand clapped onto his shoulder. Everyone looked up to see Adrian smiling down at them.

“Potter. Nott. Just the gentlemen I was looking for.”

“Why?” Harry asked warily.

“Oh, just the small matter of having to go to Umbridge and get her permission to re-form the Quidditch team thanks to her sodding decree,” Adrian said, his smile disappearing. “So whatever you do, do not piss her off before I speak to her.”

“We haven't got her until Thursday,” Theo said.

“Good, then we shouldn't have a problem,” Adrian said. “Rumour has it she was in Slytherin, so she should say yes immediately. But just to be sure, Bulstrode and Malfoy, if either of these two start yelling at her in class again, I'll hold both of you responsible as well.”

He walked off whistling, leaving four very nervous Quidditch players in his wake.


	16. In Which Umbridge Targets Severus, Who Has a Few Things to Say About the Defence Group

To Harry's dismay, he came across Umbridge well before his next Defence class. When Severus opened the classroom door that morning, he held an arm out and kept Harry waiting in the corridor as the rest of the class filed into the room.

“Not a single word to her all lesson,” he whispered before letting Harry go.

Harry frowned in confusion but nodded before walking into the room and taking his seat up the front. Severus slammed the door shut and stalked to the front of the room.

“The astute among you may have noticed that we have a guest in today's class. Do not allow yourselves to become distracted by her presence,” he said, gesturing to the back of the room.

The class turned in their seats to see Umbridge sitting in the corner, clipboard on her lap. A chill swept over Harry at the sight of her. Surely it was no coincidence that she was inspecting Severus two days after his son had held a rebellious meeting aimed at undermining her?

“You will continue brewing your Strengthening Solutions today. They are in the cupboard where you left them last lesson. If brewed correctly, they will have matured well over the weekend. Instructions are on the board,” Severus said, with a lazy flick of his wand.

Harry got up slowly and walked over to the cupboard with Draco. “ _I've got a bad feeling about this_ ,” he hissed quietly.

“ _You knew he'd be getting inspected sometime_ ,” Draco said consolingly.

“ _Yeah, but on the day she's passed her next decree?_ ” asked Harry.

Draco had no reply for that, and Harry resigned himself to a tense lesson. He did his best to keep his mind on his potion, but found his attention kept drifting to the back of the classroom, where Umbridge was busy scribbling on her clipboard. He was so distracted that he almost added his pomegranate juice before the salamander blood. He caught himself just in time, however, and was able to avert a minor explosion.

Naturally, that led to him worrying about anyone else causing an explosion and making Severus look bad in front of Umbridge. Harry began sneaking glances at Neville's potion, leaning forward to peer past Hermione. He couldn't do anything to stop Seamus from blowing up his cauldron, but he could at least help Neville if he needed it. 

The third time he looked past her, Hermione sighed and, without pausing in grinding her griffin claw, muttered to him, “I'll keep an eye on his potion Harry.”

“Huh?” Harry asked in surprise.

Hermione shrugged minutely. “She'll be beside herself with glee if you mess up in this class, but only moderately pleased if I do. Focus on your own potion, I'll make sure Neville's is okay.”

Harry relaxed very slightly. “You're right. Thanks.”

Hermione's timing was exceedingly fortuitous, as a few minutes later Umbridge finished taking her notes and wandered over to question Severus. He was leaning over Theo's workbench, on the other side of Draco, and so Harry was able to see and hear the conversation clearly. 

“The class seems to be appropriately skilled for their age,” Umbridge said officiously to Severus' back.

“Indeed,” Severus said, not looking up. “Mr Nott, you need to twist your wrist more when grinding griffin claw, instead of adding more pressure. It retains its potency when treated in a more gentle manner, rather than pounded like a Neanderthal.”

Theo nodded. “Yes, sir.”

Umbridge scribbled something else on her clipboard. “I must ask you, do you think it wise to teach them a potion like this one? I think the Ministry may be grateful if you would remove it from the syllabus,” Umbridge said in her treacly voice.

Severus' nostrils flared before he straightened up and turned to look down at her.

Umbridge raised her clipboard slightly as she craned her neck to meet his icy gaze. “Very well... How long have you been teaching here at Hogwarts?”

“Fourteen years,” Severus replied; his voice was as cold as Harry had ever heard it.

“I understand that Potions was not your first choice in subject? That you originally applied for the Defence Against the Dark Arts role?” she asked.

Harry narrowed his eyes at her gloating tone, but Severus was less obvious in showing that he was similarly annoyed. “Yes.”

“You were not given the position?”

“Evidently,” Severus ground out.

Umbridge wrote quickly on her clipboard. “But I understand you have continued to apply for the position since taking up the Potions post?”

“Yes,” Severus hissed.

“Do you know why Dumbledore has not allowed you to switch disciplines, even though most years there have usually produced few to no other applicants for the job?” Umbridge's gloating was becoming more and more evident.

Severus stared at her stonily. “You will need to ask him that.”

“I intend to.”

“I fail to see what, if anything, this has to do with my efficacy at teaching Potions,” Severus said.

“Oh, the Ministry wants a thorough understanding of the, er, background of the staff here,” Umbridge said, marking something on her clipboard, then smiling up at Severus. “And you have such an unusual position, don't you?”

“I don't know what you're talking about,” said Severus.

“Why, your family life, of course. You're the first teacher in,” Umbridge made a show of riffling through the pages of her clipboard, “over one hundred and sixty years to teach their own child – even if he is only an _adoptive_ child.”

She made the term sound like something shameful. Harry's hands clenched involuntarily, crushing the second griffin claw he'd been about to add to his mortar. 

“ _Don't do anything stupid_ ,” Draco whispered quickly.

Harry spared him half a glance before dumping the claw into his mortar – it needed to be ground, after all – and returning his attention to the two teachers.

“Is that so?” Severus asked.

“Yes. Tell me, do you feel that your performance has suffered since the adoption?” Umbridge asked.

Severus looked over her head at Harry. “Absolutely not.”

“Really? You don't find yourself distracted by your added responsibilities?” Umbridge pressed.

“No, I don't,” Severus said curtly. “As you yourself just said, I am not the first Hogwarts professor to teach their own child. We are not all as slavishly devoted to the job as Professor Binns is, you know.”

Harry watched Umbridge write on the clipboard yet again. She was certainly taking more notes on Severus than she had on Grubbly-Plank. 

“And you don't feel that you favour Mr Potter? Give him better marks than he deserves, for instance?” Umbridge asked.

Severus' eyes narrowed. “He has had consistently excellent marks in my class ever since he began at Hogwarts, so there would be no point in me boosting his marks. You may look at my class notes for the past four years if you don't believe me.”

“Hmph,” Umbridge said, making another note. “I see... Well, I think I have all I need for now. You will receive your results within ten days.”

Severus said nothing, merely stared unblinkingly at her until she clutched her clipboard to her chest and scurried out of the room. Harry let out a breath he hadn't been aware he'd been holding and met Severus' eyes. 

Severus walked slowly over to Harry's bench and bent over to inspect his cauldron. “I want you to have dinner in my chambers tonight.”

********

  
Harry didn't have a chance to properly talk to Draco until after Charms that afternoon. They walked into their dorm and sat down on Harry's bed together.

“ _What's this about?_ ” Draco asked quietly, pulling the curtains shut so that Greg, the only other person in the room, couldn't see them.

“ _I don't know exactly, just that Dad wants me to have dinner with him_ ,” Harry said, smiling when he saw Ladon winding down the bed post to greet him.

“ _You're back!_ ” Ladon said happily, curling up on Harry's lap. “ _I was so bored_.”

“ _Yeah, I've been in class all day_ ,” Harry said. “ _Why were you so bored today?_ ”

“ _I've finished exploring this room_ ,” Ladon said.

“ _Oh_ ,” Harry said, nonplussed, looking at Draco, who just shrugged. He'd had no idea snakes could even get bored. “ _Well, I can take you into the common room if you like. Want to see Tracey?_ ”

Ladon raised his head eagerly. “ _I liked Tracey_.”

Harry laughed. “ _Okay, I'll take you out to see her in a minute_.”

“ _What about Ollie?_ ” asked Draco.

“ _Ollie?_ ” Ladon asked.

“ _There's a painting of a snake called Ollie_ ,” Harry explained. “ _We can take you to meet him if you like_.”

“ _Yes, please. After dinner with Severus_ ,” Ladon said eagerly, unwinding himself and twining around Harry's arm, coming to rest around his neck.

“ _Guess someone's coming to visit Dad with me_ ,” Harry said wryly, eyeing the now dozing snake. “ _That's what I'm worried about. Dad's didn't look happy when he told me to have dinner in his chambers tonight_.”

“ _Why's that worrying you? It's not the first time you've eaten there, and you're not grounded this time_ ,” Draco said, reaching out to stroke Ladon with a complete lack of concern.

“ _Seriously? We start a secret group on Saturday, then on Monday morning Umbridge passes another sodding decree_ and _inspects Dad's class and now he wants me to have dinner with him!_ ” Harry asked incredulously.

“ _Well, anything would sound bad if you say it like that_ ,” Draco said dismissively. 

“ _He knows_ ,” Harry said.

“ _How? You heard Hermione: that parchment was cursed to hell, and I saw Edgecombe at lunch. Her face is fine_ ,” Draco said calmly.

Harry absently stroked Ladon's tail, thinking, before he answered. “ _Yeah, I guess_ ,” he said, not wanting to be accused of paranoia yet again.

Together, they fetched their Charms homework and headed out to the common room, where they found Theo and the girls sitting near one of the windows, with various essays and textbooks scattered around them. Harry sat down on the floor next to the window and smiled at Tracey. 

“Can I drag you away from your homework for a few minutes? Ladon wanted to see you again,” he said.

Tracey sighed, but put her book down with a smile. “Sure. Hand him over.”

Harry spent the next few minutes answering the questions that Daphne, Millicent and Pansy had about Ladon, while the snake in question curled up in Tracey's lap as she stroked him.

“Why's he like her so much?” Millicent asked, when Ladon shied away from her attempt to pat him.

Harry snorted. “Because he's vainer than Draco. She said he was pretty, and that was it.”

As Harry ducked away from the cushion Draco sent flying at him, Daphne reached out to stroke Ladon as well. “He _is_ really pretty.”

Harry passed the message on, and Ladon happily let Daphne pat him.

“I am _not_ that vain,” Draco muttered, taking out his Charms notes.

Tracey eventually handed the boomslang back to Harry, who let Ladon rest along his shoulders as he began to pay proper attention to his homework. He'd managed to write just over half of his essay by dinner time. As the rest of the people in the common room left to go up to the Great Hall, Harry hung back until he and Ladon were alone in the room. 

“ _You see that doorway over there? It opens to Parseltongue_ ,” Harry said, pointing out the entrance to Ladon. “ _You can come and go as you want, though you might want to stay in the dungeons_.”

“ _I want to explore this room properly before I go outside_ ,” Ladon said, though he watched with interest as the entrance way opened up. 

Harry walked quickly to Severus' quarters, making sure Ladon took note of the route.

“ _I'd be able to find this place. This corridor smells of him_ ,” Ladon said, flicking his tongue out.

“ _Er, right_ ,” Harry said, unsure of how exactly to respond to that. He pressed his hand to the guard stone and walked inside. “Dad, I'm here!”

“About time,” Severus said from the kitchen.

“Sorry, I wanted to make sure Ladon knew how to get here. I think he missed you,” Harry said, smiling as the snake dropped from his shoulder onto the dining table and slithered over to curl up in front of Severus.

He eyed Ladon sceptically. “Why would he miss me? It's not as if I can converse with him.”

Harry just shrugged. “Dunno. He can't talk to Tracey, either, but he's liked her ever since she told me he was pretty.”

“You have an odd pet,” Severus said. “Though while we're on the subject, is he hungry?”

Harry asked Ladon, who nodded.

“He nods?” Severus asked.

“I've been teaching him to nod and shake his head,” Harry said proudly.

Severus blinked at him. “I see...” he said, standing up. He walked into the living room and came back carrying a large jar. “Well, he should now be old enough to move on from eating chicken eggs. Here, see if he wants any of these.”

Severus opened the jar and poured a variety of dead frogs and lizards onto the table.

“ _Ladon, you want any of these?_ ” Harry asked.

Ladon slid over curiously. He took his time choosing, flicking his tongue out to inspect the selection, before lunging forward and swallowing an entire newt. “ _Mmm, delicious_ ,” he said, curling up again contentedly.

Severus swept the rest of the animals back into the jar. “I want you to try him with the rest of these, and keep track of which ones he likes. But for now, put him next to the fire so that we may have our own dinner.”

Harry scooped up the now drowsing snake and gently put him down on the hearth. When he returned to the kitchen table, he found Severus had ordered their food from the elves. Two plates of steak and kidney pie sat steaming on the table, each with a generous helping of vegetables. Harry quickly sat down when his stomach growled at the smell.

“Is there anything you'd like to tell me?” Severus asked pointedly. 

“I knew you knew,” Harry sighed.

Severus chuckled. “I know many things, Harry. What exactly are you referring to?”

“The defence group we started on Saturday,” Harry said in resignation. “How did you know?”

“I believe I've told you in the past that pubs are excellent for overhearing people's conversations,” Severus said. 

“Yeah, and I pointed that out to Hermione,” Harry said defensively.

“Ah, so the meeting place was her idea?”

“The whole thing was, actually, but yeah, she chose the Hog's Head. I tried to suggest we meet in an open field, but it was too late by then.”

Severus nodded slowly. “An open field would have been better for exposing any would be eavesdroppers.”

“Was it the witch or the guy with the bandage?” asked Harry.

“The witch was actually Mundungus Fletcher,” Severus said. “He got in touch with the Order straight away.”

Harry nodded. “So, I'm grounded again?”

“Grounded? Whatever for?” asked Severus.

“Er, for organising an illegal defence class?” Harry said, confused.

“I've no desire to punish you for this,” Severus said, taking a sip of his wine. When Harry just stared at him, he sighed, put his goblet down, and leaned forward intently. “You need to be more discreet than you have been thus far, but apart from that I've no problem with this course of action. It wasn't what I envisioned when I told you to simply practise the spells in your free time, but I'm certainly not going to punish you for wanting to protect yourself, or to teach others to do the same. It will also be invaluable help for your OWLs.”

“Oh,” Harry said. 

“So where is the next meeting going to be held?” Severus asked, leaning back and calmly returning to his meal.

“The Room of Requirement.”

“Where on earth is that?”

Harry quickly explained the room's location and its mechanics to Severus.

“I've never come across this room before. It sounds as if it will meet your needs admirably.”

“Hermione's idea,” Harry said.

“She's certainly put a lot of thought into this endeavour,” Severus said admiringly. “What security measures has she come up with?”

“Everyone had to sign a piece of parchment that she'd jinxed with Theo and Tracey. Anyone who tries to blab to a teacher gets covered in boils and has their tongue tied until they change the subject,” Harry said.

Severus peered closely at him in alarm. “But you just -”

“Apart from me. I can talk to you about it. In case we needed a teacher or Order member,” Harry said. “I'm not sure why – that was Tracey's idea – but it means I don't have to lie to you so I'm not going to complain.”

Severus hummed thoughtfully. “It means you can come to me if you need help with what you're teaching... Or ask me to run interference with Umbridge if she becomes too suspicious...”

“Er, yeah, I guess,” Harry said slowly. 

“This parchment better be well hidden,” Severus warned him. 

Harry frowned. “Hermione's got it. I'll tell her to keep it protected.”

“Under no circumstances is she to take it to meetings. If you get caught you'll find it much harder to deny anything if you're found with a list of members' names,” Severus added.

Harry nodded and took a gulp of his pumpkin juice. “If the Order knows, does this mean the rest of the staff do, too?”

Severus shook his head. “Not all of us, no. Minerva and Albus obviously do, as part of the Order, but it has been decided that the remainder of the staff should be kept unaware, so that they can have plausible deniability should you be discovered. Speaking of which, I'd like you to take that Map of yours to meetings, to ascertain that Umbridge or Filch aren't in the vicinity when you all leave.”

“Sure,” Harry said.

“And your Invisibility Cloak.”

“What? But that's not fair to everyone else,” Harry protested. 

“If this group should be discovered, you will most certainly be Umbridge's main target. Take your Cloak to every meeting,” Severus said sternly.

Harry looked at him sullenly. “This is going to be like those Portkeys, isn't it.”

“If you mean it's something I shall insist upon for your own good, then yes,” Severus said sharply.

“Fine,” Harry said, stabbing his slice of pie with more force than was strictly necessary. He didn't like the idea of having such a disparity between himself and everyone else.

Severus wisely chose to drop the matter. “What precautions have you in place for recruiting new members?”

Harry stared at him blankly. “I haven't thought that far ahead, to be honest. I'll have to check with Hermione.”

“See that you do,” said Severus. “As to the meetings themselves, have you come up with a lesson plan?”

“Not really... I was thinking of starting off with Disarming. It's simple enough that I should be able to get a gauge on people's skills, and it shouldn't be too hard for the younger kids,” Harry said. 

“Good thinking. It's also a strategically good spell, since it would render most opponents weaponless. There are always the odd few people who carry another weapon – Bellatrix Lestrange likes knives, for instance – but most witches or wizards would be left bare-handed,” Severus mused.

“Bellatrix? Isn't that -”

“She's Narcissa's sister,” Severus said, “and after the Dark Lord, the most terrifying person I've ever come across.”

“The one who tortured Neville's parents.”

“Yes. She was the most fanatical Death Eater, and mentally unstable even before Azkaban,” Severus said. “She's completely sadistic, has not a shred of empathy and is quite possibly in love with the Dark Lord.”

“In love with him?” Harry asked, repulsed. 

“To judge from her past behaviour towards him, yes,” Severus said with a grimace.

“Gross,” Harry said, pushing his plate away. The way Narcissa and Sirius spoke about her suddenly made perfect sense to him.

“Quite,” Severus agreed. “It's not exactly an appealing topic of conversation, but you need to know these things.”

“Yeah, I get that,” Harry said.

“Back on topic, I would suggest that once you are satisfied with the group's performance with Disarming, you move onto Shield Charms,” Severus said. “A properly cast Shield can protect you from anything but an Unforgivable Curse.”

“Yeah, okay,” said Harry, trying to get his mind away from an image of anyone wanting to snog Voldemort.

“I was pleased with your conduct in class today, given some of the things Umbridge said.”

Harry looked up with a jerk. “About that – is that my fault? Did you get inspected today because of what I did on the weekend?”

Severus shook his head firmly. “The class inspections have all been planned out well in advance. Today was just a coincidence, though I have no doubt that some of her questions were aimed at eliciting an outburst from either one or both of us.”

“Oh, good,” Harry said in relief.

Severus smiled faintly. “You needn't worry about me, Harry. I can take care of myself.”

“I never said you couldn't,” Harry replied.

“How is your Occlumency coming along?” Severus asked.

Harry slumped down. “Depends. I'm fine clearing my mind before sleep – I haven't had a nightmare or a vision in ages now. But I still haven't managed to get my barrier to work.”

Severus tapped a finger against his lips for a while before answering. “I see no reason why you shouldn't get there in time, with enough practise... I want you to try clearing your mind for all of your lessons with Umbridge.”

“What? During class?” Harry asked.

“It's not as if she's going to teach you anything remotely useful, and it will help ensure that you do not have any more angry outbursts,” Severus explained. “As for your barrier, try visualising it every night before you go to sleep. Your mind will be at its most relaxed then, especially since you've mastered clearing it, so you may find it easier to imagine flying.”

Harry nodded. “I'll give it a go.”

“Very well. I'd also like you to join me here for dinner on a fortnightly basis, perhaps on Sundays. It will give me a chance to better observe your progress with Occlumency, as well as afford you time to ask me for advice if you're having trouble with your group.”

“Works for me,” Harry said cheerfully. “I better get going, I promised Ladon I'd introduce him to Ollie tonight, and I need to finish my Charms essay.”

“Of course. Don't forget the jar of snake food,” Severus said, standing up.

Harry hissed at Ladon to wake up. He did so reluctantly, wrapping himself around Harry's neck and immediately falling back into a light doze. He'd just picked up the jar of snake food when an odd sort of chiming sound made him straighten up.

“What was that?”

“It's a charm to let me know that a student wants to speak to me at my office,” Severus said, sounding tense. “Hurry up.”

Harry followed Severus out into the corridor, half-jogging to keep up with his longer stride. “Does this happen to you a lot?”

“Depends on your definition of a lot,” Severus replied. “Being available to one's students is naturally one of the duties of being a Head of House, and the rate at which one is called depends on the students one has in their care. Filius and myself are generally called upon by our students far more than Pomona is, for instance.”

“And McGonagall?” asked Harry.

“Hardly ever gets bothered,” Severus said sourly.

Harry stifled a laugh as they rounded the corner and saw Adrian knocking on Severus' office door.

“Mr Pucey, how may I help you?” Severus asked.

Adrian dropped his hand and whirled around. “It's the Quidditch team, sir. I went to ask Professor Umbridge to reinstate the Quidditch team and she told me she had to think about it. I know for a fact that all the other three teams were given permission to re-form straight away – I spoke to the other three captains.”

“But Theo and I didn't say anything to her! We haven't even had Defence this week!” Harry cried.

Severus frowned. “She has no grounds to refuse you. I'll go speak to the Headmaster now.”

“Thank you, sir,” Adrian said in relief.

Severus nodded and swept off along the corridor, his robes billowing behind him.

Adrian turned to Harry with a grin. “Well, hopefully that's – why do you have a snake around your neck?”

“Ladon's my pet,” Harry said shortly, wanting to get back to more important matters. “You sure all the other teams got the go ahead?”

Adrian stopped walking and faced Harry, his grin gone. “Yep. I saw Diggory and Chang in the Entrance Hall just before dinner and asked them. Chang said Davies had let the Ravenclaw team know at lunch, and naturally Diggory had asked Umbridge himself. Johnson came over to us on her way into dinner and confirmed that Gryffindor had the all clear too. One guess why she's holding out on us.”

“Me and Theo,” Harry said despondently.

“Yep. Nothing but trouble, are you, Potter?” Adrian asked, but he just laughed when Harry opened his mouth angrily. “I'm kidding. Plus Snape's going to sort it all out, right?”

“Yeah,” Harry said. 

“Anyway, I got some news you might be interested in. Training times of the other three houses,” Adrian continued.

“Yeah?” Harry asked, perking up.

Adrian nodded. “Hufflepuff have six till seven Monday; Ravenclaw have six till seven Tuesday; and Gryffindor,” Adrian started to laugh, “Gryffindor have six till seven Thursday, Friday, and are looking at Saturdays as well.”

“Three times a week already? What the hell are they doing?” Harry asked.

“I got the impression that their new Keeper needs a bit of work,” Adrian said happily. “Anyway, I've decided to change our time from seven on Thursday to ten on Saturday morning. This way we won't have to worry about Malcolm needing to be back in the common by his curfew.”

“Works for me,” Harry said.

“I thought you might want to keep Wednesday evenings free for defence training.”

“Brilliant, thanks,” Harry said, thinking fast. “Okay, can you let the sixth and seventh year Slytherins know? Wednesday at six, seventh floor corridor, opposite the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy. There'll be a door on the opposite wall.”

“What do you mean, there'll be a door?” Adrian asked.

Harry resumed walking. “You'll find out. Just pass it on, yeah?”

“Sure thing, fearless leader,” Adrian said easily.

Harry stopped outside the common room. “Don't call me that.”

Adrian just laughed and gave the password to the entrance. Harry followed him inside and headed over to where his friends had returned to their earlier seats, joined this time by Blaise, and sat down on the floor again. 

“We're starting this Wednesday at six,” he said quietly. “Seventh floor corridor, opposite the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy.”

Everyone looked up from their homework at that and nodded seriously. 

“Do you need help letting everyone know?” Daphne asked.

Harry idly stroked Ladon while he thought about it. “Adrian's going to tell the older Slytherins and I'm going to ask Scarlett to talk to Luna and pass it on to the Ravenclaws through her, but you could talk to your sister and the younger Slytherins if you like.”

“Of course,” Daphne said.

“I can tell the Hufflepuffs,” Blaise offered.

“You do know I only told you to _pretend_ to flirt with one of them this morning, right?” Pansy asked.

Blaise just shrugged. “Why half-arse it? You have to admit that Susan's pretty bloody fit.”

“Not really,” Pansy said, turning to Millicent for support.

She shrugged. “Too mousy. I like my girls a little more...”

Pansy tossed her hair. “Vivacious? Witty? Charming?”

“I was thinking more along the lines of...” Millicent leaned over to whisper in Pansy's ear.

Pansy giggled breathlessly and grabbed Millicent's hand. “Let's go,” she said, dragging her off towards the girls' dorm.

“Guess we're stuck out here for a while,” Daphne said to Tracey.

“They don't use privacy charms?” Theo asked.

“They do not,” Tracey said, going back to her complicated-looking Arithmancy notes.

“Pansy's developing an exhibitionist streak,” Daphne elaborated.

“You two don't seem so bad anymore,” Theo told Harry and Draco brightly.

“Are you kidding? I'd trade these two for the exhibitionist lesbians any day!” Blaise burst out.

“Cheers, Zabini,” Draco drawled.

“I could go back to leering at Harry if you like,” Blaise said, winking at Harry.

“Continue to drool over the lesbians,” Draco said at once.

Harry rolled his eyes and got up to find Scarlett. He found her polishing her broomstick next to Archie, who was reading her Transfiguration textbook. He crouched down to quietly tell them about the upcoming meeting. Archie nodded, but Scarlett was more interested in Ladon.

“We'll get the message to Luna,” Archie promised.

“Uh huh,” said Scarlett, who by now had her face inches from Ladon's.

“Don't scare him,” Harry warned her.

Scarlett flicked her tongue out at Ladon. “I'm not going to scare him. He's not even awake!”

“Ignore her,” Archie sighed. “She always gets even more mental than usual after we have class with Umbridge.”

“Because it's so boring!” Scarlett said crossly, finally pulling away from Ladon. “At least with Binns we can play cards or read or even finish our homework if we're desperate. This bitch won't even let us do that!”

“Hence the secret group we're starting on Wednesday,” Harry whispered pointedly.

“Yeah, yeah, ye – ooh, he's waking up! Can I hold him?” Scarlett asked eagerly.

“I promised Ladon I'd introduce him to a snake portrait tonight,” Harry said apologetically, instantly feeling guilty when her face fell. “Do you want to come with us?”

“Can I?”

“Please take her before I throttle her,” Archie said.

“Go tell Draco, he wanted to come as well,” Harry said.

Scarlett shot to her feet. “Back in a sec!”

Harry watched Scarlett bounce over to the fifth years. “Why do I feel like I'm taking a hyperactive dog for a walk?”

“Because that's what life with Scarlett's like,” Archie said, not looking up from her book.

“I'm back!” Scarlett announced.

Harry looked past her to see Draco had only just begun walking over. “We still need to wait for Draco.”

“He takes too long,” Scarlett pouted.

“Sorry I didn't skip over here like you did,” Draco said.

“You should be,” she shot back.

“Let's go,” Harry said. “ _Ladon, wake up, we're off to meet Ollie_.”

Ladon hissed something inarticulate as he began to stir.

“Is it weird being able to talk to snakes?” Scarlett asked.

“Yes,” Draco said.

“Not really,” Harry said more slowly. “It was at first, but I'm used to it now.”

“What do they talk about? I bet it's mice, right?” Scarlett giggled.

Harry shook his head. “It depends on the snake. I knew a grass snake who used to tell me about the prey she caught, but when she had eggs she couldn't talk about anything else.” He paused when he felt a pang of sadness, knowing he'd never see that snake again. “Ollie – he's the portrait we're going to see – likes to gossip, and knows a lot about the history of Hogwarts. And Ladon likes to ask questions about pretty much everything. He especially loves gardens.”

“Huh,” Scarlett said. “Hey, I know this snake! I see him every time I get called to your dad's office.”

“You spend a lot of time there, do you?” Draco asked.

“Not _that_ much, Mr Prefect,” Scarlett said. “Just, you know, some teachers think I should sit still in their classes, or be quiet or whatever. Snape doesn't really care as long as my marks are okay and I'm good at Potions. Though he did get cross when I crashed the stage at the Yule Ball. That earned me a pretty bad lecture.”

“I wonder why,” Draco snorted.

“Because Snape has no sense of humour?” Scarlett guessed.

Harry glared at her. “He does, actually, though it can be weird... Anyway. Enough. _Hi, Ollie_.”

“ _Hello, Harry, Draco_ ,” Ollie said. He was curled lazily on his rock, as usual, but rose up slightly when he caught sight of Ladon. “ _That's a boomslang_.”

“ _Yeah. Ollie, meet Ladon, my pet. Ladon, this is Ollie, the first snake I ever became friends with_ ,” Harry said.

“ _Nice to meet you, Ladon_ ,” Ollie said politely. “ _I'm an East African green mamba, we live in the same area back in Africa._ ”

“ _I've never been to Africa_ ,” Ladon said quietly, then put his head right next to Harry's ear.

“ _I haven't either, Ladon, not really. My real self did, but I only have the memories of that_ ,” Ollie said. “ _I could tell you about it, if you like_.”

Ladon slithered further around Harry's neck, so that he was stretched out almost to the painting. “ _I'd like that_.”

Harry grinned. “ _Ladon gets a bit bored when Draco and I are at class, we were hoping you wouldn't mind him visiting you_.”

“ _Of course not_ ,” Ollie replied. “ _I can show you all around the castle as well, Ladon, any place where there's a painting I can enter_.”

“ _I like exploring_ ,” Ladon said shyly. 

“ _You could take him to see that snake charmer_ ,” Draco said slyly.

“ _I think I'll take you to see an Egyptian cobra first. She's always rude to me because she's more venomous than I am, but your venom will be even stronger than hers, Ladon_ ,” Ollie said gleefully.

“ _Um, okay_ ,” Ladon said. 

“ _Come back tomorrow and I'll show you around_ ,” Ollie said. “ _Now, boys, who is this tiny girl?_ ”

“ _This is Scarlett_ ,” Harry said, guiding her forward.

“Hi, Ollie!” Scarlett said, giving him a wave.

“ _Tell Scarlett I've never seen a Slytherin get called to the Head of House's office as often as she does_ ,” Ollie said disapprovingly.

“He says he's never seen a Slytherin get called to the Head of House's office as much as you do,” Draco sniggered.

Scarlett's grin widened. “Thanks! I get away with things far more often than I'm caught.”

“ _Is that so?_ ” Ollie asked, when Harry had passed that on to him. “ _If that's true that's rather an impressive record_.”

Draco translated for Scarlett again.

“Thanks!” she said, giving a small curtsey. 

“ _Isn't it nearing curfew? You should all be inside the common room_ ,” Ollie said.

Harry checked his watch and nodded. “ _Yeah, close to. See you later_.”

Ollie inclined his head. “ _Nice to meet you, Ladon. I look forward to getting to know you_.”

“ _Me, too_ ,” Ladon said.

The three humans turned back towards the common room, with Ladon practically purring with happiness on Harry's shoulders. Scarlett abandoned them once they were in the common room, rushing over to rejoin Archie, leaving the boys to go back to their dorm. 

Draco checked they were alone before shutting the door. “So what did Snape want?”

Harry let Ladon slither off his arm and climb up onto his bed frame. “He knows about the group. But -” he held up a hand at Draco's horrified expression “- he's supporting us. All the Order knows – Fletcher was the veiled witch at the pub – which means McGonagall and Dumbledore know what we're up to, but none of the rest of the staff do.”

“And they're letting us go ahead?” Draco asked.

“Yep. Dad's even going to help me with lesson plans, if I need it. He's also given me some pointers on security that I need to talk to Hermione about. But obviously we can't let anyone know, apart from Hermione, Tracey and Theo, since they're the only others who know about the parchment's curses.”

Draco gave a crooked smile. “So Snape's come through for you. I just hope Mother is as supportive of this as he is.”


	17. In Which the Defence Group Holds it First Meeting, and Pansy Feels Guilty for Possibly the First Time in Her Life

When the post arrived at breakfast on Tuesday, Thoth had his usual package of sweets from Narcissa. For once, Draco didn't even open the box, instead tearing open the attached letter and reading it quickly.

“ _She approves_ ,” he eventually told Harry.

“ _Why wouldn't she? She's in the Order and she usually lets you do whatever you want_ ,” Harry pointed out.

“ _Yes, but whatever I want usually doesn't involve organising a school-wide rebellion against the Ministry_ ,” Draco replied. “ _Though she has warned us to be very careful, especially since we share a dorm with Crabbe and Goyle_.”

“ _We will be_ ,” Harry assured him.

Just then, Adrian hurried up to them. “Great news! Snape asked Dumbledore, and he reinstated the Quidditch team! So we'll have our first practise on Saturday at ten!”

As quickly as he'd arrived, he was gone, no doubt off to find Scarlett and Malcolm. 

Theo snorted. “That'd explain this morning's new Decree. Umbridge is pissed that Snape and Dumbledore over-ruled her.”

Educational Decree Number Twenty-Five had appeared on the common room noticeboard over night, giving Umbridge supreme authority over any other member of staff – and any decisions they made.

“Probably,” Harry said heavily, standing up. “See you in Herbology.”

He walked up to the North tower with Pansy and Daphne, only half listening as they gossiped about Blaise and Susan. He was too busy thinking about what Draco had said, about them sharing a dorm with Greg and Vince. 

The situation hadn't improved from that first awkward night back at Hogwarts. Greg or Vince would occasionally open their mouths as if to say something to the other fifth years, or to laugh at something one of the other boys said, but they would invariably remember that they were not to associate with them – or at least not with Harry and Draco. Harry didn't know exactly what their fathers had said to them, but he got the impression that neither boy had been expecting the rest of the year to choose to stick with Harry.

He tried not to let it bother him. It wasn't pleasant to have people he'd formerly considered friends avert their eyes whenever he walked into the room, but he did understand that the spectre of Voldemort hurting their families was a terrifyingly good incentive to do what he said.

Theo wasn't as understanding. He had, after all, been given the same choice that Vince and Greg had, and having chosen differently, had no sympathy for them. He hadn't said a word to either of them since returning to Hogwarts, apart from occasionally telling them to sod off, and was absolutely scathing whenever he spoke about them, if the topic came up. Draco wasn't much better, though he did at least concede to Harry that he would probably have done anything Voldemort asked if it had been Narcissa threatened. 

Blaise and the girls were less hostile, but had still dropped Greg and Vince completely. Both boys kept to themselves within classes with the rest of their year, and had taken to hanging out with some of the older Slytherins, people like Miles or Xander, who Harry had never liked. They were the sorts of people he thought Severus might be keeping an eye on, the ones he suspected might be tempted to join the Death Eaters upon graduating. Harry didn't like the idea of them influencing Greg or Vince, but there was nothing he could do about that.

“Cheer up, Harry,” Daphne said, poking him in the ribs. “How can you be moping when we're about to get the latest instalment of Pansy winding up Trelawney?”

Harry laughed. “Sorry. What have you got planned for today?”

Pansy shrugged one shoulder. “Not sure yet, it depends on what we're doing in class. If we're still on dreams, I have a feeling that I'm going to remember an incredibly detailed sex dream again.”

“Can you leave the livestock out of this one?” Daphne asked, beginning to climb up the silvery rope ladder that lead to Trelawney's classroom.

"My grandfather's from Aberdeen, sheep shagging's in my blood,” Pansy said loudly, sharing a grin with Harry as they waited for Daphne to get further up.

Daphne stopped and twisted around to glare down at Pansy. “Can't you just say that – I don't know – there were costumes or something?”

Pansy's eyes lit up. “I can work with that.”

“Good,” Daphne sighed in relief and resumed climbing.

Pansy winked at Harry. “Did I tell you that last night I had a dream Millicent was wearing a sheep costume?”

Harry burst out laughing, drowning out the sound of Daphne's groan. Pansy smirked and followed her up the ladder, leaving Harry still sniggering below her. He hadn't quite stopped laughing when he entered the classroom and joined the girls at their usual table. He quickly shut up when Trelawney slammed three copies of _The Dream Oracle_ onto the table, narrowly missing Daphne's hand. She jerked her hand into her lap and stared up at Trelawney with Harry and Pansy.

“So you think my class is a joke, do you?” Trelawney snapped, not at all in her usual misty voice.

“No – no, professor,” Harry stammered.

“We'll see about that!” Trelawney cried.

She marched over to the trapdoor, from which Vince had just clambered out of, thrust two more copies of _The Dream Oracle_ into his chest, and whirled away to pace the room. Vince turned to Greg in confusion, and for once, the rest of the class shared their bewilderment.

“What are you all waiting for? Carry on with your dream interpretations! Heaven knows I'm such a useless teacher that you don't need my help!” Trelawney said.

Harry glanced at the girls; he could tell by their expressions that, like him, they were beginning to figure out what Trelawney's problem was.

“Excuse me, professor,” Harry said tentatively, “but is this about your inspection?”

“I have been judged an incompetent teacher and put on probation!” Trelawney wailed. 

There was an awkward silence at that, since three fifths of the class happened to agree with this assessment of her teaching.

“Probation?” Greg asked.

“Yes, probation! That – that – that _woman_ has had the temerity to judge me. Me! As if she knows _anything_ about the ancient art of divining the future!” Trelawney gathered her shawls tightly around her shoulders.

“Maybe she should've Seen this coming,” Pansy whispered under her breath, though even she seemed disturbed by Trelawney's distress.

“Is anyone else on probation?” Harry asked, thinking of Severus.

Trelawney gave a sob. “No! I alone have been singled out! Of course, Seers have always been persecuted by those who cannot See... The discrimination we face by the larger community... No other group faces what we Seers must suffer...”

Harry lost what little sympathy he'd had for her at that, given that he knew Remus and other werewolves faced actual discrimination from both the Ministry and the wizarding world at large. He rolled his eyes in disgust and decided to clear his mind for the rest of the lesson. Trelawney continued her melodramatic complaints for the duration of the lesson. Pansy didn't have the heart to make up a fake dream to rile her up, choosing instead to gossip quietly with Daphne over their open books. 

“But that's the worst thing she could do! No one will believe her!” Daphne giggled.

“Exactly,” Pansy said, also giggling.

“Believe who?” Harry asked, not having heard the first half of the conversation.

“Edgecombe's trying to get back at Blaise by starting a rumour that he has a tiny dick,” Pansy said gleefully. “The only problem is that he's been with enough girls here that plenty of people know otherwise. Nerissa overheard her in Herbology and said she knew for a fact that she was lying.”

“Blaise shagged Nerissa? When did that happen?” Harry asked.

“Last year. Didn't he tell you?” Pansy asked.

Harry shook his head.

“They didn't shag, Pansy,” Daphne said.

“Says who?”

“Says Blaise.”

The girls began having a whispered argument over what, precisely, Blaise and Nerissa had done together. Harry tuned them out, having lost what little interest he'd had in the matter, and focused on his Occlumency for the rest of the lesson.

“I can't believe I'm saying this, but I feel a little guilty now,” Pansy said once class was over and they could make their escape. “After all the shit I've given her in class...”

Daphne laughed. “Please. She's a manipulative old fraud who enjoys telling children they're about to die. You have nothing to feel guilty about.”

“She's right,” Harry told Pansy.

To his surprise, she continued to look troubled. He shared a glance with Daphne, who just shrugged.

********

  
At half past five on Wednesday evening Harry grabbed his Invisibility Cloak and the Marauders' Map, shoved them both into a pocket and left the dorm with Draco. They met Hermione in the Entrance Hall and walked up to the seventh floor together. When they got to the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy, Draco and Hermione stopped and faced Harry expectantly.

“Here goes,” he said. He began pacing backwards and forwards, thinking slowly. I need somewhere to train people in defence... Somewhere we can practise spells... Somewhere safe from Umbridge...

“It's worked,” Hermione announced.

Harry spun around to find a door had materialised in the previously blank wall. He pushed it open eagerly and all three of them piled inside.

Draco whistled. “Good job, Harry.”

Harry grinned as they looked around the room. It had taken the form of a large, airy room. The wall to either side of the door had a blank blackboard on it. The back wall held an assortment of what Harry recognised as Dark detectors, and the two side walls were lined with bookshelves. There were no seats in the room; instead, there were large, flat cushions scattered around the perimeter of the floor. 

Hermione walked over to the nearest bookshelf and scanned the titles. “This selection is amazing... Some of these books aren't even in the Hogwarts library! There are defensive _and_ offensive spells here that will be incredibly beneficial to learn...”

With that, she pulled a particularly large tome out and settled down on the nearest cushion to read it. Knowing that Hermione wouldn't be drawn into conversation anytime soon now that she had her head in a book, Harry turned back to Draco. 

“What d'you think?”

Draco grinned back at him. “I think it's perfect! It's fairly close to the form it took when we were training you up for the last task of the Triwizard Tournament.”

“We just have to be even more secretive,” Harry said, moving closer to the Dark detectors. 

Draco joined him and took his hand. “What are all of these?”

Harry explained the functions of the detectors he recognised. Some he'd never seen before, but a lot of them he'd seen in the Defence office last year. He was describing how the Foe Glass worked when he realised just how crowded the reflection in it was becoming. He frowned in consternation, but none of the figures within the glass showed any glimpse of their eyes. 

Both boys spun around when there was a knock on the door. It opened to reveal the entirety of the group's Gryffindor contingent, save for Hermione. 

“Did you all walk here together?” Harry asked.

“Yeah. George and I were the only ones who knew exactly where this place was, so we offered to show everyone,” Fred explained. 

“Did it never occur to any of you just how suspicious it would look if anyone saw you all marching up here just before dinner time in a massive group?” asked Draco.

The Gryffindors all looked at each other.

“Er, no, not as such,” Neville eventually said.

“Bloody Gryffindors,” Harry sighed. “Try to come in smaller groups next time, yeah?”

There was sheepish nodding at this, and the Gryffindors dispersed to find seats on the cushions while they waited for the rest of the group to arrive. Thankfully, the rest of the group came up in smaller, more discreet groups. Cedric and Elizabeth were the next to arrive, with Cho and Marietta right behind them. The Slytherins walked in in twos and threes, as did the Ravenclaws. The remaining Hufflepuffs came together, but as there was only four of them, Harry wasn't too worried. Finally, the door opened one last time and Luna wandered in alone and barefoot.

“That's everyone,” said Draco, who'd been counting the arrivals.

“Right,” Harry said, suddenly nervous. 

Everyone stopped talking to their friends and gazed up at him from their cushions. Harry scanned the crowd, trying to figure out how to begin. “Okay, I was – what, Hermione?”

“Before we begin, I think we should agree on a leader,” she said, lowering her hand.

“Harry's obviously our leader,” Draco said dismissively.

“What, you want to lead or something?” Scarlett asked, her eyes narrowing.

“I never said that,” Hermione said calmly. “I wanted us to all vote for Harry, actually, so that his position is given a more formal sense of power. So – all those in favour of having Harry lead us?”

Apart from Harry, everyone in the room raised their hand, though some, like Marietta and Terry, did so reluctantly.

“Okay, thanks,” Harry said, running a hand though his hair. “So, er – what is it _now?_ ”

Hermione lowered her hand again. “I also think we need a name for our group. So that we feel more unified – we are from four different houses, after all, and we don't usually mix like this socially. A name might give us more of a feeling of being a united front, bring us all together.”

“Well, we're all here because we're sick of Umbridge, right? Why not Die, Umbridge, Die?” suggested Pansy.

“Nice and concise, but it seems like more of a mission statement,” said Zubeida, eliciting some laughs. 

“And the acronym for that would be DUD,” Morag pointed out.

“Bollocks,” muttered Pansy.

“Fuck the Ministry?” Adrian called out.

“I like it,” Fred laughed.

“I think something with an acronym would be good, though, so that no one outside of this room realises what we're talking about,” said Cho.

“DA: Dumbledore's Army,” piped up Ginny. “That's what's scaring Fudge, after all, and why Umbridge is here in the first place.”

Harry couldn't help joining in the laughter at that, despite the fact that he felt this was all Dumbledore's fault to begin with for not giving Severus the Defence position. 

Hermione knelt up on her cushion. “All in favour? Good.”

She got up and walked to the nearest blackboard and wrote _Dumbledore's Army_ across the top of it in large letters. She returned to her cushion and smiled at Harry expectantly.

He eyed her for a few seconds, but it seemed she was done putting her hand up – at least for now. 

“Alright, well, I was thinking we'd start off with Disarming. It's nice and easy, and will give me an idea of where most of you are,” Harry said.

Vikram snorted. “Disarming? What are we, first years?”

“No, but there _are_ some second years here,” Adrian pointed out from beside him.

“If it's so simple, you won't mind getting up here to demonstrate,” Harry said mildly.

“And disrupt your lesson? Nah,” Vikram said hastily.

“Right,” Harry said, stifling a smile. “So, for those of you who don't know the spell, the incantation is _Expelliarmus_. There's no fancy wand work; just point it at your target.”

There was a sea of nodding heads at this. Harry blinked, finding it odd to have people listening to him as if he were a proper teacher. 

“Okay, how about you all divide into pairs and have a go.”

Everyone got up off their cushions and scrambled to find partners. Soon, the air was full of the sound of forty odd people shouting “ _Expelliarmus_ ”. Harry wandered through the room, inspecting people's efforts, which ranged from quite impressive to embarrassingly bad.

“Good job, guys,” he said to Draco and Hermione, who were fairly evenly matched. 

Draco beamed at him, taking his eyes off Hermione, who seized the chance to Disarm him again.

“Cheat,” he muttered, setting across the room to retrieve his wand.

Harry gave an amused smile to a smug Hermione before continuing on his rounds. Theo and Tracey were also evenly matched, but Scarlett was spending most of her time ducking behind other people without even trying to get Archie, who was unable to aim at her.

“Scarlett, stand still so she can at least get a shot in,” Harry called out.

Scarlett obediently stepped out from behind Alicia and promptly lost her wand when Archie cast her spell. “See, that's why I was hiding,” Scarlett grumbled.

“You're supposed to be practising the charm, not hiding,” Harry said. “Well done, Archie.”

“Cheers,” Archie said brightly, watching Scarlett rush off to find her wand.

Blaise was having no luck Disarming Susan. It wasn't that he was going easy on her, but that Marietta was hitting him with Stinging Hexes from behind, making him yelp and causing his spells go wild. 

“Cut it out, Edgecombe, or you can leave,” Harry said.

“It was just a laugh,” Marietta said sulkily.

“No, it wasn't. You and Cho can move over there,” Harry said, pointing to the other side of the room.

Marietta gave him a dirty look but did as he said. Cho lingered for a moment. “Sorry about her, Harry. I'll have a talk to her later,” she said.

“Thanks, Cho,” Harry said.

Harry had to split up the Weasley twins; they were so used to reading each other's thoughts that neither was able to hit the other. He paired them off with Angelina and Alicia, and watched them until he was satisfied that they all knew what they were doing.

“That's great, keep it up,” he told them before moving off.

He had to spend quite a while with the Creevey brothers. While eager, they were less than focused, and instead of Disarming each other, were mainly making books fly off the shelves near them amongst showers of red spell light.

“You guys are Muggle-borns, right?” Harry asked them.

“Yeah,” Colin said.

“Well, think of your wand as a pistol, not a machine gun. You can't just spray spells around and hope one of them sticks: you might only get one shot, so it needs to count. You have to slow down a bit and take the time to aim before you cast,” he told them. 

“Okay,” Colin said, nodding along with his brother. 

Harry smiled back at them. “On three. One... Two... Three!”

“ _Expelliarmus!_ ” both brothers cried. 

Colin's spell was a little faster, a little more accurate, and Dennis' wand went spinning out of his hand. 

“Much better, both of you,” Harry said, once Dennis had returned with his wand. “Just keep doing it like that, okay?”

“But won't we have to be quicker in an actual duel?” Dennis asked.

“Yeah, but you can work on speeding up once you've got your aiming right,” Harry told him. 

The group's performance improved slowly over the course of the meeting. Some people, like the Creeveys, needed a few minutes with Harry, while some only needed a simple suggestion to cast the spell correctly. By the time Harry arrived back at his starting point, he reckoned the rate of spells which were hitting their targets was close to ninety percent. 

“Harry, it's nearly seven-thirty,” Hermione said. “If we want to manage to get anything for dinner...”

“Right, thanks,” Harry said. 

He stepped over to Adrian, who was partnered with Malcolm. The second year had greatly impressed Harry, holding his own against the seventh year. 

“Give us a whistle?” Harry asked Adrian.

Adrian put his fingers in his mouth and gave an ear-piercing whistle that cut through the noisy chaos of the group. Everyone fell silent and looked around for the source.

“I think that's it for this evening,” Harry said. “Curfew for the second and third years starts in half an hour. We'll meet here the same time next week for now, but we might change to a different day if Wednesdays are a problem. And try not to arrive in large groups, okay?”

“What about Quidditch practise?” Angelina called out.

Harry nodded. “Can you, Cedric and Cho come join Adrian and me for a second?” he asked. 

He handed the Marauder's Map to Draco, with instructions to make sure the surrounding corridors were free from teachers before letting the group leave in twos and threes. Most of the rest of the group was lined up to leave, but Scarlett, Ginny, Archie and Luna were gathered in front of the blank blackboard, writing something on it and giggling amongst themselves. 

Harry waited for Angelina, Cedric and Cho to make their way through the crowd towards him.

“Okay,” Harry said, once they'd arrived. “Quidditch training. Adrian's told me when all the different teams practises are scheduled, but there'll probably be more than a few that need to be changed due to bad weather.”

“Usually, yeah,” Adrian said.

“Well, what I'd like you to do is try to coordinate any rescheduling with each other, if you can, to try to minimise any disruptions to us,” Harry said nervously. “Obviously, Ravenclaw will be the main problem – no offence, Cho – because your Captain isn't in the DA. So I'm thinking if it comes down to it, Ravenclaw gets priority for rescheduling, since Davies is the only Captain who doesn't need to work around DA meetings.”

“We can do that,” Cedric said, looking at the other two Captains. 

“Yeah, of course,” Adrian said. Angelina nodded.

“Brilliant,” Harry said in relief. “Er, so the other thing is that we need to be discreet. It'd be pretty suss if the three opposing Quidditch Captains all started talking to me in the middle of the Great Hall, so I'm thinking that you use messengers – people I already talk to. Angelina, the obvious choice is Hermione, but Neville, Ginny or one of the Weasley twins would be fine. Cho, Luna can talk to me, or even to Scarlett or Draco. Or Padma or Morag – Draco and I share a table with them in Herbology. As for you, Cedric...”

Cedric frowned briefly, before brightening. “I can talk to Draco or Pansy, since they're Prefects and I'm Head Boy. Or ask Susan to talk to Blaise, but...”

“But knowing Blaise, that option won't last very long,” Harry said. They all laughed, and Harry felt relieved that three seventh years and a sixth year were happily doing as he asked. “Thanks, guys.”

“No problem,” Adrian said, clapping Harry on the shoulder before heading towards the door. “Though you three still need to be prepared to be thrashed by Slytherin in our matches...”

Harry watched the four of them join the dwindling line at the exit, then glanced around the room. Given that over forty students had spent an hour and a half casting spells inside the room, it was in remarkably good condition, and was mostly emptied of DA members now. 

Draco was still holding the Map, letting the stragglers out. Ginny and the twins were huddled in one corner, having what seemed to be rather a tense conversation. Hermione had joined Scarlett, Luna and Archie at the blackboard and seemed to be scolding them. Harry frowned and walked over to them. 

“I really don't think it sets the right tone,” he heard Hermione say.

“I think it's perfect,” Luna said firmly.

“What's – oh,” Harry said, staring at the board.

  
_ Course Aims of Dumbledore's Army _  
_Learn proper defensive spells and tactics_  
_Spread the truth about Fudge's vendetta against goblins!_  
_GET RID OF THE TOAD AND OVERTHROW THE MINISTRY!!!!_  


Harry read through and laughed, having a pretty good feeling that he knew which statement had been written by which girl.

“Don't encourage them, Potter,” Hermione grouched.

Harry looked at her in exasperation. “What's the harm?”

“We're just trying to get everyone motivated!” Scarlett said.

Luna nodded. “And make sure all our members are informed about what Fudge's true agenda is.”

Hermione met Harry's gaze, then rolled her eyes with an inaudible sigh.

“It's fine. I think we can probably fit in something from everyone in the DA on here,” Harry said, gesturing at the board.

“Yeah, think of it as another bonding thing for the group,” Archie said slyly. “Everyone can add their own 'course aim' to the list.”

“Why don't you add your own now?” Scarlett asked, holding out a piece of chalk.

Hermione took it and after thinking for a moment, neatly wrote _Learn how to cast corporeal Patrnonuses_.

“Nice one!” Scarlett said.

Harry gulped. He distinctly remembered being repeatedly told how advanced that spell was back when Severus was teaching him. Teaching it to the DA, especially the younger members, was going to be a challenge. He was broken from his reverie by a tap on the shoulder.

He turned to find Ginny and the twins standing before him.

“We'd like a word,” Ginny said.

“Okay,” Harry said.

“It's about Ron,” she continued nervously.

“Okay,” he said again, slower this time. 

Behind him, Draco finished guiding the last members out of the exit. He and Hermione joined Harry.

“He'd like to join the DA,” Ginny said.

“How does he know about it?” Draco demanded.

“The Order know about us, you know that, right?” Ginny asked.

“Yeah, my dad told me,” Harry said. “He's fully supportive.”

“Ah, well, you see, our mum isn't,” Fred said.

“She sent letters to the three of us and Ron telling us that we weren't allowed to continue with what we were planning,” George said.

“She didn't mention anything specific, did she?” Hermione asked in alarm.

“No, of course not,” Ginny assured her. “But Ron had no idea what she was talking about, and so obviously he asked us what she was on about. We had to tell him.”

“Don't worry,” George said hastily at Harry's expression. “He won't blab if you say no – we have ways of keeping him quiet.”

“But it'd be better if he could join. I know you lot don't get on with him, but he's a good kid, really,” said Fred.

“He's the only person in our family apart from Percy who isn't in either this group or the Order,” Ginny said. “And he really doesn't want to have anything in common with Percy right now, since he's decided his loyalties lie with the Ministry and not his own family.”

“Arsehole,” Fred muttered.

“Traitor,” George added.

Harry looked at the three earnest Weasleys, then turned to Hermione and Draco. “I'm okay with it if you guys are.”

Hermione bit her lip. “We can't refuse him just because we don't like him.”

“We could,” Draco said, then sighed. “Fine. But don't come whining to me if he gets into a fight with one of us. And he'll have to sign your piece of parchment, Hermione.”

She nodded. “Of course. We can do it tonight.”

“No time like the present,” Fred said, rubbing his hands together.

“All clear on the Map?” George asked.

Draco glanced down at it. “If you leave now and go straight to your common room you'll be fine. Filch is about a minute away from turning into this corridor at the other end.”

“Cheers,” George said, pushing the other Gryffindors towards the door.

The room was suddenly very quiet with just Harry and Draco left. They bent over the Map together to watch Filch's progress down the corridor. When he'd turned the corner at the other end, the boys quietly slipped out of the room and headed down to the dungeons.

Harry couldn't help flicking his gaze around the common room when they entered, though he hoped he was subtle enough to go unnoticed. The other Slytherin members of the DA were all already sitting calmly in the common room, looking for all the world as if they had been there for ages and hadn't just returned from an illegal group designed to subvert Umbridge and the rest of the Ministry.

Everyone had met up with their respective class mates, mostly studying, in the case of the older students, or chatting over games of cards or chess for the younger kids. Scarlett seemed to be showing off the Weasley twins' latest trick wands to some of the fourth year boys. Theo and the girls were clustered around their Transfiguration essays, though Blaise was nowhere to be seen; Harry guessed he was off snogging Susan somewhere.

“We should probably join them,” Harry said, not relishing the thought of tackling his complicated Transfiguration homework.

“Or not,” Draco said in a low voice, pulling Harry towards their dorm.

Harry allowed himself to be dragged into their dorm and pinned against the door, before he found himself getting soundly snogged. His head hit the door with a thud when Draco moved his mouth to Harry's neck.

“Did you even check no one else was in here before jumping me?” Harry asked breathlessly, worming his hands under Draco's robe and around his back.

“No, why would I?” Draco replied, moving up to nip at Harry's earlobe. “Crabbe and Goyle aren't allowed to be anywhere near us, remember? They'd have to leave.”

“Kinda hard when we're blocking the only exit.”

“Good point,” Draco said.

He walked backwards towards his bed, taking Harry along with him. When they reached the bed Draco sat down heavily, scooting back to lean against the headboard. Harry quickly crawled on top of him and smiled against Draco's lips while he slid his hands down his back, tugging his shirt out of his pants. He undid Draco's tie and the top few buttons, then bent down to kiss his neck.

Draco moaned beneath him and raised his hands to Harry's robe, making quick work of his robe clasp and pushing the offending garment off him completely. He unbuttoned Harry's shirt, then ran his hands over Harry's chest. His skin tingled where Draco touched him and he had to tighten his hold on Draco's shoulders.

He kissed up Draco's neck and along his jaw before claiming his mouth again. He moaned when Draco pinched one of his nipples, slightly startled by how sensitive it was. He'd never played with his nipples when wanking before, but he would definitely start after this.

Draco pulled away. “Was that a good moan or a bad moan?”

“Good, very good,” Harry breathed.

Draco chuckled and bent his head to suck on the nipple he'd just pinched, while lowering his hands until they rested on Harry's belt buckle. 

“Is this alright?” he asked, his mouth hot and wet against Harry's skin.

“God, yeah,” Harry said.

He kissed Draco again, nibbling on his bottom lip while Draco undid his belt. His trousers were quickly unbuttoned and then Draco was sliding his hand into Harry's pants and Harry couldn't help but buck his hips as a bolt of pure lust went through him when Draco touched his penis for the first time.

It took a few seconds before Harry realised that Draco would probably like him to reciprocate. He reached for Draco's belt buckle, careful not to get in the way of Draco's hand, because Harry really didn't want to interrupt what it was doing. He fumbled a few times with the buckle, making a frustrated noise in the back of his throat when he couldn't unhook it properly.

Draco snatched his hand back. “What did I do?” he asked worriedly.

“Nothing! It's just your stupid belt,” Harry said, finally getting it undone. “Please go back to what you were doing.”

“So uncoordinated,” Draco said.

He cupped Harry's face and drew him in for another kiss, while his other hand blessedly went back to moving up and down Harry's erection. For his part, Harry had better luck with the buttons on Draco's trousers, and soon had both them and his pants sitting under Draco's balls. 

Harry broke the kiss to look down at what he'd just pulled out. Draco's penis was longer and thinner than his own, and curved slightly to the right, whereas his own was dead straight. It was standing up from a nest of blonde curls that - 

“How long are you planning on staring at my prick for?” Draco asked.

“Sorry,” Harry muttered, giving a nervous laugh.

He gave an experimental pull. The angle was different from wanking himself, but he soon got into a steady rhythm. He bit his lip when Draco twisted his hand around the head of his penis. Draco made a satisfied noise and did it again on his next stroke, and before he knew it, Harry's balls were drawing up and he was spurting all over both of their hands. 

His own hand faltered when his orgasm hit. It took him a few moments before he got back into his rhythm. He sped up when he heard Draco's breath hitch, and it didn't take long before he was coming too.

Once he'd got his breath back, Draco rummaged within his robe with his clean hand to pull out his wand. 

“ _Scourgify_ ,” he said.

“Thanks,” Harry said. 

They got dressed again, then Harry twisted around to curl up against Draco's side.

“Can I expect this after every DA meeting?” he asked, resting his head on Draco's shoulder.

“No. Only the good ones,” Draco replied.

“If this is my reward, they'll all be good,” Harry said, laughing lazily.

********

  
The second meeting of the DA went just as well as the first one had. After a quick refresher on Disarming, Harry had the group move onto casting Shield Charms. These proved trickier than Disarming, and they had to spend more time on them, carrying on into the next two meetings. Harry didn't mind this, as it gave him a chance to get the new members up to speed with the rest of the DA.

Ron had arrived at his first meeting looking nervous – after all, he had a rocky history with the three founding members – but his desire to join the group was evidently stronger than his dislike of Harry, Draco or even Hermione, and he listened to everything Harry told him without arguing. When he successfully Disarmed Harry near the end of the meeting, the two boys even shared a grin with each other.

Seeing Ron join the group inspired Padma to ask if she could bring her sister along to the next meeting. Padma turned up the following meeting with Parvati, and the following week, Lavender and Dean had joined as well. Harry smiled at them when they walked in, happy that they'd increased their membership so quickly. He'd been a little concerned that things would become too crowded with the extra people, but the Room of Requirement simply expanded itself with each new addition. 

The list of course aims written on the blackboard was getting increasingly longer, as each member wanted to add their own entry to the list. Some were serious suggestions that Harry was taking into account when planning future lessons: Cedric had requested they learn some basic first aid, which Harry happily promised he'd get around to; and Susan had asked to learn Disillusionment Charms, which Harry said he'd look into – he had a feeling he'd definitely need Severus' help with those.

Then there were the other additions. There were lots of calls for Umbridge to be taken down, ranging from getting her sacked to getting her thrown into Azkaban. Theo wanted to force her to use a Blood Quill to write out “I must not show my face in Hogwarts again”. Pansy wanted to ban her from ever wearing pink, which she claimed was her colour.

“How exactly do you think the DA is going to be able to help you with that?” Harry had asked her.

Pansy had turned around from the blackboard with a shrug. “I'm sure you'll teach us something I can use. I have faith in you, Potter.”

The meetings themselves were being held on different days each week, due to the approaching Quidditch season. With the first match, between Slytherin and Gryffindor, fast approaching on the first Saturday of November, both teams were now training almost daily. Adrian and Angelina had coordinated these times and given them to Harry, but that was without factoring in the worsening autumn weather. 

Luckily, Hermione had contrived a means of mass communication that allowed Harry to pass on the time and date of the meetings to each member. She'd given everyone a fake Galleon, to be kept in their pockets at all times. Instead of having a serial number around the edges of the coins, the numbers stamped on the fake coins referred to a time and date. Harry merely had to change the numbers on his own coin, and due to the Protean Charm Hermione had cast on them, all the other Galleons would display the same numbers.

“And they heat up when they change, too, so that people know to check their coins,” Harry said.

He was sitting in Severus' lounge room, drinking tea after Sunday dinner, and had just finished telling him about the status of the DA.

Severus frowned. “That sounds like the Dark Mark.”

“Yeah, I know, that's what I said. It's where she got the idea from,” Harry said.

Severus rubbed his left arm absent-mindedly. “She's certainly resourceful.”

“Yeah, she is,” Harry agreed, then frowned at Severus' arm. “Is it hurting you?”

“My Dark Mark?” Severus took his hand away. “Not at the moment. Only when he calls us – _them_ – to him. How about your scar?”

“Not since the holidays,” Harry said, reaching up to touch said scar.

Severus nodded. “How are you finding teaching?”

“I like it,” Harry said slowly. “Although Hermione puts her hand up way too much.”

Severus burst out laughing. “I won't argue with that.”

Harry grinned at him. “Yeah, well, at least she follows my instructions. That's taken some getting used to – everyone doing what I say.”

Severus smiled. “What are you going to be teaching next?”

“Those first aid spells you taught me over summer,” Harry said.

Severus raised an eyebrow. “First aid? That's a good idea.”

“Wasn't mine,” Harry admitted. “We have a board where people can write down things they'd like to learn, and that was Cedric's request. I wanted to talk to you about that, actually. Susan's asked if I could teach Disillusionment Charms, and I don't know them. Can you teach me?”

“Of course I can, though they can be difficult,” Severus mused. “I don't imagine that many of the younger students will be able to achieve true invisibility with them, merely a chameleon-like camouflage.”

“That's fine,” Harry said quickly.

“Read up on them first. There's a shelf devoted to concealment spells in the defence section in the library. Don't ask Pince for help in case she gets suspicious,” Severus cautioned him.

Harry nodded. “Okay. Great.”

“But for now, it's time we worked on your Occlumency shield,” Severus said.

Harry groaned. “Okay.”

“How have you progressed thus far?” Severus asked, re-filling his tea cup.

“I'm getting there, I think,” Harry said. “I'm really slow at it, but I can mostly feel the sensation of flying – holding onto the broomstick, feeling the wind. And last night I think I heard the rush of the air. But I still can't see anything.”

Severus tapped his lips with his forefinger as he thought about this. “Very well,” he said finally. “I'd like you to bring up your barrier as best you can. Once you've done so, I shall perform Legilimency on you, to properly ascertain your status.”

Harry took one last gulp of tea and set his cup down on the coffee table. He cleared his mind, shut his eyes, and with a deep breath, tried to bring up the experience of himself flying. He was soon soaring through the air, thrilling with the speed of the wind that rushed over him, but all he could see was the black of his eyelids. 

“Have you succeeded?” asked Severus.

Harry opened his eyes to meet Severus' dark gaze. “Mostly.”

Severus nodded once and raised his wand. “ _Legilimens_.”

It was one of the oddest sensations of Harry's life. Unlike the last time Severus had performed Legilimency on him, Harry didn't get sucked into his own memories. He remained as he was, sitting on the couch and staring at Severus, though he could still feel the physical sensations of flying.

That was disconcerting enough, but after a time he became aware of a foreign presence in his mind. It was only faint at first, but he could feel it getting closer and closer to him. Must be Severus, he thought, and mentally changed direction, banking hard on his invisible broomstick. Severus' presence faded momentarily, until he seemed to grasp where Harry had gone, and chased after him. 

In front of him, in the physical world, Severus' expression didn't change. He continued to stare intently at Harry, not blinking, while Harry did his best to duck and weave on a broomstick he couldn't see, in a sky he didn't know, chased by a foe he couldn't fight.

Inevitably, Severus caught up to him, and Harry was plunged into his own memories. This time, he only relived part of the meeting at the Hog's Head before he was snapped out of it. He sat blinking at Severus, his barrier gone and his mind back to normal. Well, apart from the headache.

“Was that okay?” he asked, uncorking the pain reliever Severus handed him.

“About what I expected, given what you've told me. You kept me out for a decent amount of time, though it would obviously be easier for you if you could fully visualise your barrier,” said Severus. “Choosing flight as your barrier was obviously the best choice, as you were able to evade me even though you couldn't see me or your mental surroundings.”

Harry frowned. “So, if I do it properly, I'll be able to see you in my head? How does that work?”

“When performed correctly, you will be able to view your barrier and anyone attempting to penetrate your mind as well as your physical surroundings. The mental environment will overlap the physical, allowing you to see both. Just as when you clear your mind, you should be capable of continuing about your business at the same time,” Severus said, in full teacher mode.

Harry looked at him in dismay. “I'm pretty okay at clearing my mind and still being able to function, but I have to be able to bring up my barrier _as well?_ I don't think I can.”

“You can and you will,” Severus said firmly. “It will take time, I've no doubt, but you will eventually master the skill. You are not as hopeless at it as you think you are, and you've an excellent teacher.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Easy for you to say. You probably got it right the first time you tried it.”

“I did learn Occlumency much faster than you are, it's true,” Severus allowed. “People learn different things in different ways, Harry. You were able to cast a corporeal Patronus far quicker than I was, for instance.”

Harry perked up. “Really?”

“Try not to sound so delighted,” Severus drawled. “Yes, it took me over a year to cast a corporeal Patronus. It frustrated Minerva to no end.”

“McGonagall taught you?” Harry asked in surprise.

Severus nodded. “After I came to work here. Albus taught me Occlumency – an essential skill for someone sent to spy on the Dark Lord – and later Legilimency, and Minerva taught me to cast a Patronus.”

“How come you didn't learn when you were in school? Didn't they teach Patronuses to NEWT classes back then?” asked Harry.

Severus scowled. “I wasn't – I couldn't, back then. Neither could any of the other future Death Eaters. I've told you that becoming a Death Eater requires one to be full of hatred and anger. Casting a Patronus requires the opposite. It's why I had such difficulty learning the spell as an adult. It took time for me to get out of that frame of mind.”

Harry gave Severus a tentative smile. “But you did.”

“I did,” Severus said quietly.

They fell silent at that. Harry, for one, knew how much Severus disliked talking about elements of his past, and was trying to think of a different topic, to no avail.

In the end, it was Severus who changed the topic of conversation. “How is the Slytherin Quidditch team performing?”

Harry grinned.


	18. In Which Both Quidditch and Hagrid Return

The day of the Slytherin – Gryffindor match dawned bright and clear, frigid but blessedly wind-free. The atmosphere in the school was as excited as it always was for a Quidditch match, though there was less antagonism between the two competing houses than usual. Probably because both teams were in the DA together, Harry reasoned.

“Alright, team,” Adrian said, walking briskly into the changing room, which immediately fell silent. “We've got perfect conditions today, so let's use that to our advantage and kick the season off in style. From a few things Angelina's let slip to me, their Keeper's improved since joining the team, so we don't have that working for us anymore, and we know how good the rest of the team is.”

“Bollocks,” Draco muttered in annoyance.

Adrian just grinned at him. “We'll be right. _Our_ Keeper's been brilliant since try outs, and has only gotten better. And the rest of us are pretty bloody fantastic, too. We've got this.”

The team filed out of the changing room and onto the pitch, with the Gryffindors meeting them from the other side. All around them, the stands were packed with students in their house colours, waving banners, singing and cheering.

“Captains, shake hands,” Hooch ordered.

While Adrian and Angelina did so, Ginny grinned across at Harry. “Ready to lose, Potter?”

Harry just grinned back. “I dunno, Weasley, are you?”

“On my whistle,” Hooch called.

Seconds later they were all in the air. Harry immediately flew above everyone else in order to look for the Snitch unimpeded by the other players. Across the pitch, Ginny had done the same, and like Harry, began flying around the circumference of the pitch.

“And they're off!” Down in the staff box, Lee was once again commentating the match, under McGonagall's close supervision. “Both teams have new Keepers this season and they've both got a fair bit of pressure this match. Gryffindor's Ron Weasley is replacing Oliver Wood, their old Captain and a damn fine Keeper, and Slytherin's Malcolm Baddock is the youngest player in the air today – and for the whole season, if I'm not mistaken. And first possession of the match is Gryffindor Captain Angelina Johnson with the Quaffle, heading for goal.”

Harry couldn't help but watch as the Gryffindor Chasers headed towards their goals in a tight arrow formation. 

“Millicent Bulstrode takes aim – Johnson ducks her Bludger and passes the Quaffle to Katie Bell, who shoots and – damn! Last minute save by Baddock, and now it's Scarlett Lympsham in possession, heading for the other end of the pitch with Adrian Pucey and Draco Malfoy closing ranks beside her.”

Harry grinned at the sound of the Slytherin supporters' cheers mingling with the groans of the Gryffindor supporters. Saving the first attempt at goal should give Malcolm some confidence, Harry thought, though he'd seemed perfectly calm before the match anyhow.

It quickly became apparent that the heavy training schedules they'd been operating under were paying off for both teams. Both sets of Chasers were flying flawlessly together, but even so, the Keepers were able to block a decent amount of goals, aided by the Beaters sending Bludgers at whoever was in possession of the Quaffle.

Nearly two hours into the match, and they were tied on one hundred and ten points each. Harry was getting increasingly impatient to find the Snitch – judging by the play so far, neither team was going to be pulling away anytime soon, so the winner would be decided by whichever Seeker managed to catch the Snitch. Harry slowed down a bit, allowing Ginny to draw a little closer to him so he could keep a closer eye on her in case she saw it before he did.

It was a good thing he'd done that when he did. Not five minutes later, the Snitch darted in front of him and, before he could even begin to raise a hand to catch it, it had swerved around him, heading straight for Ginny's path. Harry swore and wheeled his Firebolt around and hoped he wasn't too late. 

Both he and the Snitch had been so quick that it took Ginny a second to realise what was happening, and the Snitch dodged past her, too. Like Harry, she swore and turned her broom around. Unfortunately for her, her broomstick had a much wider turning circle than Harry's Firebolt did, so by the time she'd straightened out again, he'd caught up to her. 

They were neck and neck as they followed the Snitch in its haphazard flight around the pitch, when it suddenly dropped straight down. Harry and Ginny immediately fell into a steep, almost vertical dive as they tore after it, hurtling past one of the twins before they levelled out about ten metres above the ground. The Snitch zigzagged across the pitch before circling around the base of one of the Gryffindor goal posts. Harry nearly collided into Ginny when they shot around the goal in opposing directions, before they met up again as the Snitch headed towards the other end of the pitch. 

Harry had never come across a Snitch that was so hard to capture. Despite the near misses, he was having a blast, and was pleased the Snitch was putting up such a fight in the Slytherin – Gryffindor match. He much preferred to be engaged in this battle with Ginny, who gave as good as she got, and not one of the other Seekers.

The Snitch had somehow evaded both Seekers when it got to the Slytherin goals and spiralled up around the middle post. Harry caught sight of a startled Malcolm as he and Ginny shot past the Keeper. The Snitch was headed back to the other end of the pitch leaving the Seekers no choice but to follow – straight into the path of all six Chasers, who were tearing up the pitch towards the Slytherin goals.

Adrian had the Quaffle in the centre of the tangle, and his eyes widened when he saw Harry and Ginny bearing down on him. At the last second, Harry executed a half-Sloth grip roll, hanging upside-down from his broom as he sped under the Chasers, while Ginny shot up over the top of them. 

A few seconds later and Harry was able to right himself, and was once again bumping shoulders with Ginny. He had no idea what had happened to the Chasers; all his attention was focused on the Snitch that was _just_ out of - 

“And Potter's got the Snitch,” Lee said despondently. “Slytherin win two hundred and seventy to one hundred and twenty.”

Harry did an exultant loop-de-loop and flew off towards the staff stand. He raised the Snitch triumphantly towards Severus, who was on his feet, clapping hard. A warm feeling settled in Harry's stomach, before he caught sight of Umbridge watching him, a sour expression on her face. Sitting a few rows behind Severus in the staff box, her green tweed cloak made her look even more toad-like than usual. Hovering in the air in front of her, Harry couldn't help feeling like an overgrown fly about to be eaten. He gave himself a shake and dove down to meet the rest of the team on the pitch, where he was immediately enveloped in a boisterous group hug.

********

  
The house party that night was one of the better ones Harry had been to. The lack of a Quidditch season the year before meant that everyone was even more invested than usual, especially since the very existence of the Slytherin team had been threatened by Umbridge.

There was the usual assortment of drinks and food piled onto tables around the edge of the common room, with the rest of the furniture pushed up against the walls to make room for a dance floor. A lot of people were dancing to the Weird Sisters, but for once, Scarlett wasn't amongst them.

“Are you sure this safe?” Harry asked her.

“ _Yes_ ,” she said impatiently. “Now hand them over.”

“Okay, here,” Harry said, holding out his bag of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes samples.

Scarlett gleefully grabbed the fireworks out of it, then handed some of the larger ones back to him. “Those are outside only. _Incendio_.”

The fireworks she was holding leapt from her hand with a shower of multi-coloured sparks. There were a few screams at the first explosions, though they quickly turned to laughter when people saw the glittering fireworks shooting up towards the ceiling. The air was soon filled with miniature dragons that breathed even tinier fireworks; all manner of firecrackers that exploded in every colour of the rainbow; and rockets that trailed silver stars that fell down slowly, dissipating just before they could singe the heads of the awestruck Slytherins.

“The twins really do know their stuff,” Harry said admiringly.

There was a chorus of agreement from the group around him as they watched the show. Someone, Harry wasn't sure who, extinguished the flames in the fireplace and all the lamps, leaving the room lit only by the flickering fireworks. 

“Come get some punch,” Draco said after a few minutes, taking Harry's hand.

They only just reached the drinks table when some shrieks made them spin around in alarm.

In the middle of a circle of third year girls stood a five foot tall canary. Sadie Baldock and Adelaide Murton both had their wands pointed at the giant bird, but seemed understandably reluctant to cast a spell on what Harry presumed had been their friend mere seconds before.

“Astoria?” Viola asked in a panicked voice, confirming Harry's suspicions.

“She'll be fine,” he said, hurrying over. “She'll turn back in a minute, just wait.”

All three girls looked at him doubtfully, but turned back to watch the canary. Sure enough, its feathers soon began to fall to the floor, and soon Astoria was standing there blinking at them all.

“That was unexpected,” she said, shaking a loose feather out of her curls.

“Thank god you're okay!” Viola squealed, launching herself at her best friend.

“I'm fine,” Astoria said, squeezing Viola back before gently pushing her off. “What _was_ that?”

“Canary Cream,” Harry said. “Invented by the Weasley twins for their joke shop.”

“How'd they get it into our common room?” Sadie asked indignantly.

“Same way their fireworks got in,” Draco said. “Scarlett.”

Astoria narrowed her eyes. “Harry, are the rest of these going to do the same thing?”

Harry leaned over the table to inspect the tray she was pointing to. It was difficult to tell in the flickering light of the fireworks, but it looked like a tray of Canary Creams. “Yeah, I think so.”

“Excellent,” she said, grabbing one and darting off into the crowd with her friends following.

Draco turned to Harry warily. “What else was in that bag you gave Scarlett?”

“Er... Some Ton-Tongue Toffees... I think they were the only edible things. I kinda forgot to go through it properly,” Harry admitted.

Draco peered uncertainly at the food. “I think I'll stick to the punch. At least I know that's only spiked with alcohol.”

“Sound logic,” Harry muttered.

An hour later, Harry was dancing with Draco, Daphne and Blaise, watching the rest of the Slytherins take full advantage of the available Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. It was certainly entertaining, Harry mused, to see unsuspecting revellers suddenly turn into canaries in the middle of the dance floor. Scarlett had clearly added her own stash to what she'd stolen from him, to judge from the sheer number of sweets being consumed.

Even once word had spread about what the twins' products did, people began daring their friends to eat the sweets. Some of the sixth and seventh year boys had a competition to see who could grow the longest tongue before they caved under the weight of it and shrank it back to normal, and a large group of first and second years were eating Canary Creams and attempting to fly whilst in canary form.

“Thank god we have house-elves to clean up here,” Tracey said some hours later.

She was sitting on Theo's lap, sharing a couch with Harry and Draco. They followed her gaze around the room, which was littered with shed feathers, as well as the usual debris from a party. Harry sipped his Butterbeer and aimed a Vanishing Spell at a passing rocket, making it multiply by ten. Draco chuckled appreciatively while Nerissa walked over towards them.

“Hermione wants to talk to you,” she said.

“Hermione?” Harry asked dumbly.

Nerissa nodded. “She's at the entrance, asking for you and Draco.”

Harry checked his watch; it was well after curfew. He shared a worried glance with Draco and they both stood up and hastened over to the entrance. It opened up to reveal Hermione shifting impatiently. She was wearing a hat, scarf and gloves, which Harry thought was a bit excessive. It wasn't that cold in the dungeons.

“What's wrong?” Draco asked.

Hermione's eyes flicked behind him before she answered in a whisper. “Hagrid's back.”

“Really?” Harry asked delightedly.

“Shh!” Hermione said fiercely. “Yes, I saw the lights in his cabin a few minutes ago. Let's go see him.”

“We'll be back with my Cloak in a few minutes,” Harry said.

Hermione nodded and stepped back from the entrance. It slid shut when the boys turned back to face the party.

“ _How are we supposed to sneak past the entire house?_ ” Harry asked.

Draco pursed him lips for a moment. “ _Leave that to me. I'll meet you in the dorm_.”

Harry turned to Draco questioningly, but got only a raised eyebrow in response. He shrugged and walked off to get his Cloak from his trunk, along with the Marauders' Map. He was in the middle of telling Ladon about the Quidditch match when Draco walked in, followed by Pansy.

“You're coming to visit Hagrid with us?” Harry asked in surprise.

Pansy looked at him pityingly. “No.”

Draco rolled his eyes. “She's our cover. And in the future, could you try to think before speaking, please? What if she hadn't been in on it?”

“It's Pansy, she's always in on everything,” Harry said. Well, most things, he thought.

Pansy smirked. “I'm talented like that. Now come on. I have things I need to do.”

“What, seeing who's snogging who out there?” Harry asked.

“Yes, actually,” Pansy replied. “So let's go!”

Harry stood up and swung the Cloak over himself and Draco. They followed Pansy out of the dorm and through the common room, making sure to stick to the edges of the room to minimise their chances of bumping into anyone. Even so, there was a close call when Harry accidentally bumped into Vikram. Before he could turn around, Harry quickly jostled Darius as well. The two older boys turned and began to argue over who had bumped into whom, leaving Harry and Draco a clear path to the entranceway. It opened up when Pansy stood in front of it.

“Hermione!” she said loudly. “The boys said you wanted to talk to me!”

She must have winked or made some other sign, because Hermione stiffened slightly. “Oh, yes,” she said. “I, er, I found this scarf in my pocket after the match today, and I thought it might have been yours.”

Draco prodded Harry in the back, guiding him past Pansy, who was leaning against one side of the entrance. They squeezed past the girls and paused in the corridor.

“We're out,” Draco whispered.

Pansy immediately shook her head. “Oh, no, that's not mine. Have you asked Luna? A blue scarf would probably belong to a Ravenclaw.”

“You're probably right. I'll let you get back to your party,” Hermione said.

Pansy winked at the wall just to the left of the boys before stepping back from the entrance. It closed behind her, leaving the corridor eerily quiet after the music and yelling in the common room. 

“Where are you?” Hermione asked.

“Here,” Harry said, holding up the edge of the Cloak. 

Hermione ducked underneath it and pulled the folds closed around herself. Harry used the Map to check that there wasn't anyone else out in the dungeons before they started walking along the corridor.

“Are your house parties usually like that?” Hermione asked after a few minutes.

They paused momentarily at the top of the stairs so they could check that the Entrance Hall was clear of teachers.

“Er, not quite,” Harry said, nudging her forward again. “Scarlett decided to bring out a bunch of the twins' joke stuff. They seem to be a hit.”

Draco snorted. “I'll say. Did you see Goyle's face when he turned into a canary? Priceless.”

“Must've missed that,” Harry replied, easing open the heavy wooden front door as quietly as possible.

Once outside, Harry and Hermione stepped forward briskly, before Draco tugged them both back sharply. 

“Do you two want us to get caught?” he hissed. “It's been snowing.”

Harry looked down to see a few centimetres of snow on the ground. He'd been so eager to get to Hagrid's cabin, which he could see was indeed lit up, that he hadn't even noticed the snow on the ground.

“Hagrid will still be there even if we take an extra five minutes to erase our footprints,” Draco grumbled, turning around and bending down to the ground. “ _Oblitero_.”

It was exceedingly awkward, walking through the rising snow with three people under the Cloak, when one of them was crouched over and walking backwards to cast Obliteration Charms at their footprints. It took them nearly twice as long as usual to reach Hagrid's front door, and Harry was getting increasingly impatient. As soon as they'd all stepped onto Hagrid's front step, he knocked on the front door. Fang immediately began barking from inside the cabin.

“It's just us,” Harry said through the keyhole, worried that Fang's barking would be heard up at the castle.

“Course it is,” Hagrid said from behind the door. “Haven't even unpacked and you three are bangin' me door down. Outta the way, Fang... _Move_ , come on...”

There was a scuffle inside – it sounded like Hagrid was pulling a reluctant Fang away from the door – then the bolt was pulled back, the door opened a crack, and Hagrid's hairy face was peering out into the night.

Hermione screamed.

“Gallopin' gargoyles, not so loud!” Hagrid said, his eyes darting around over their heads. “Come in before yeh wake the whole castle.”

“Sorry,” Hermione said miserably, stepping into the warm cabin. 

Harry followed her, pulling the Cloak off and stowing it in a pocket with the Map, while behind him, Draco took a second to cast one last Obliteration Charm at the front step. He shut the door behind himself, and the three of them huddled together in the doorway while Hagrid bustled around shutting all the curtains. He hadn't been exaggerating about not having unpacked; there was a thick travelling cloak, the size of a tablecloth, flung across one chair and a large, battered, sack-like bag resting on the floor against one wall.

Fang jumped up to paw at Harry and Hermione's shoulders, doing his best to lick their faces, before making his way to Draco. He licked Draco's ear before Draco pushed him off his shoulder. Fang dropped back to all fours and pressed himself to Draco's side, tail wagging madly as he drooled all over Draco's robes. For once, Draco didn't notice it; like Harry and Hermione, he was more concerned with Hagrid's appearance.

His face and hands were covered in cuts, some still oozing blood, others older and semi-healed. There was blood congealing in his hair and beard, adding to the dried blood already streaked throughout. His left eye was so badly swollen that it was a mere slit in his face, and there wasn't much visible skin that wasn't bruised. The odd, overly careful way he was moving made Harry think he might have some broken bones, too, most likely a few ribs and maybe his collar bone.

“What happened to you?” Harry asked.

“Nothin'. Want a cuppa?” Hagrid asked, putting the kettle on the fire.

“Only if you tell us who's attacked you,” Draco said.

“No one,” Hagrid said. He turned away from the fire and attempted a smile, though he ended up wincing in pain. “It's bloody good ter see the three o' yeh again.”

“Will you at least let me heal you a bit?” Harry asked, already drawing his wand.

Hagrid looked impressed. “Yeh can do that, can yeh? Never figured you fer a healer, Harry.”

“Dad taught me over summer,” said Harry.

Hagrid gaped at him. “Yeh _dad?_ ”

Harry reached up and pulled on Hagrid's shoulder until he sat down in a chair. “Severus adopted me. Now sit still.”

“Adopted?” Hagrid echoed.

“Don't move,” Harry said sternly. “I've never actually done this on a person before.”

Hagrid's one open eye widened in alarm. “Now hang on -”

“ _Episkey_ ,” Harry said, pointing his wand at one of the cuts on Hagrid's hand.

Hagrid watched as the skin knit itself together, leaving behind a smear of blood but no other trace of the cut.

“ _Scourgify_ ,” said Harry, cleaning the skin.

Hagrid looked down at his one clean, unharmed section of skin. “Thanks.”

“Don't thank me yet, I've still got the rest of you to go,” Harry said grimly.

“Are you going to tell us what happened to you now?” Draco asked, over the sound of Harry murmuring more charms.

“Is that the kettle whistlin'?” asked Hagrid.

“No,” Hermione said, sitting down at the table to watch Harry's progress with interest. “It was the giants, wasn't it? They attacked you.”

Hagrid jerked in surprise. “How'd yeh know about 'em?”

“Dad told me,” Harry said, not looking up from his task.

“Snape's bin tellin' yeh Order business?” Hagrid asked.

Harry nodded. “Yeah, he -”

“Harry won't tell you any more about Snape until after you tell us about the giants,” Draco cut in.

“Yeh sneaky little...” Hagrid muttered, though his beard twitched. “Okay, fine, I spent the summer tryin' ter track down the giants.”

“Did you find any?” asked Hermione.

“What was left of 'em, yeah,” Hagrid said.

Just then the kettle really did start to whistle, making them all jump slightly.

“Sit still!” Harry said again when Hagrid made to get up.

“I'll get it,” Draco said quickly, extricating himself from Fang, who whined at the loss. “Quiet, Fang,” he said sharply.

“Ah, go easy on 'im,” Hagrid said.

Draco nodded. “The giants?”

“Right,” Hagrid said, staring down at his now fully-healed left hand. “Well, yeh already know we left last June.”

“So Maxime went with you?” asked Hermione.

Hagrid smiled dreamily; it was a nightmarish vision, given the mangled state of his face. “Yeah, she did. And yeh know, yeh'd never think it to look at 'er, but but she's not afraid o' roughin' it. I was a bit worried she'd have a thing or two ter say about campin' in caves and woods, but she never said nothin'.”

“Camping?” Draco frowned and pushed two pail-sized mugs in front of Hermione and Harry. “Why didn't you just Apparate there? Surely Maxime could've Side-Along Apparated you? It would've taken a number of trips, but it would've been much quicker.”

Hagrid shook his head. “We was bein' followed by someone from the Ministry. We had ter give 'em the slip, didn't we? So we pretended we was goin' ter Olympe's school. That was slow goin', that was, since I'm not supposed ter use magic. But we got rid o' the bloke followin' us just outside of Dee-John -”

Hermione leant forward excitedly. “Ooh, Dijon? I've been there on holiday, did you stop to visit -”

She stopped talking at the exasperated expression on Draco's face.

Hagrid reached out with his left hand to pick up his own mug and take a sip before continuing. “We could use a bit o' magic after that – fires fer cookin', that sort o' thing – but I'm too big fer Olympe ter Apparate me very far. Wasn't a bad journey, though. Well, apart from a couple o' mad trolls who picked a fight with us at the Polish border. An' then I had a bit of a disagreement with a vampire in Minsk -”

This time, it was Draco who made an interested noise. Hermione gave him a quelling look.

“- but apart from that we didn't have no problems. We found the mountain range they live in and had ter stop with the magic – they don't like people who use it, yeh see, an' we didn't want ter make 'em mad before we even got a chance ter talk to 'em. Then, o' course, Dumbledore had warned us that You-Know-Who would've sent someone ter talk to 'em as well, so we had ter keep a low profile so we wouldn't draw their attention.”

He paused to take another gulp of tea.

Harry looked up from where he was working on Hagrid's right hand. “And?” he prompted.

“An' then we found 'em,” Hagrid said, lowering his mug. “Got over a ridge one night an' they was all there in a valley, set up around the edge of a lake. They was movin' around their fires, like bits of the mountain had come ter life.”

“How big are they?” asked Draco.

Hagrid shrugged his left shoulder. “Twenty feet or so, some of 'em a few feet taller than that. Made me feel short fer the first time in me life.”

The kids smiled at that. Hagrid took the chance to drink some more tea.

“How many of them were there?” asked Harry.

“'Bout seventy or eighty, give or take,” Hagrid said.

“Is that all?” asked Hermione.

Hagrid nodded sadly. “Yeah. Used ter be hundreds o' different tribes, but they've fought each other too much. Wizards killed a few, too, so the remainin' ones banded together fer protection – which just made 'em fight each other even more.”

Harry turned Hagrid's hand over, checking for any cuts he'd missed, then raised his head to work on Hagrid's face. “What'd you do then?”

“Waited fer mornin', o' course. They would've killed us if we'd snuck up on 'em in the middle o' the night. They all fell asleep round about three in the mornin', but we stayed awake – partly fer safety, and partly 'cause their snorin' was loud. Caused an avalanche just before dawn, it did. We waited until the sun was properly up, then walked down from our mountain ter meet 'em.”

“You just walked into a giant encampment?” Draco asked in awe.

“Yep. Well, Dumbledore'd told us how to. He'd given us gifts fer the Gurg and we made sure ter hold 'em up so they could see 'em properly.”

“The Gurg?” asked Hermione.

“Their leader. He was called Karkus, must've bin twenty-two feet. He was sittin' by the lake, bellowin' at the rest of 'em ter feed him an' his wife. So Olympe an' I, we walked down ter him with our gift. We bowed an' put our gift on the ground in front of 'im,” Hagrid explained.

“What the hell do you give a giant as a gift?” asked Draco.

“Magic. Giants love it, so long as it's not used against them. So we gave 'im a branch o' Gubraithian fire.”

Both Hermione and Draco looked impressed at this, but Harry had no clue what that was, and said as much.

Hermione clicked her tongue at him. “Everlasting fire, Harry, honestly. Don't you pay attention in class?”

“Of course I do,” he said, frowning at Hagrid's eye, which was proving tricky to heal.

“Well, Dumbledore'd bewitched this branch to burn fer eternity, which is a right tricky bit o' magic,” Hagrid said, speaking mainly to Harry, “and I put it down on the ground at his feet and said 'A gift to the Gurg of the giants from Albus Dumbledore, who sends his respectful greetings.'”

“What did he say?” asked Draco.

“Nothin'. Didn't speak a word of English,” said Hagrid. “But 'e recognised it as English and called fer a couple o' giants who did speak it, and they translated fer us.”

“Did he like the present?” Draco asked.

“Once they cottoned on to what it was, yeah, they loved it. So then I said, 'Albus Dumbledore asks the Gurg to speak with his messenger when he returns tomorrow with another gift'. Then Olympe and I bowed a couple more times and went back up the mountain ter find a cave ter sleep in.”

“Why couldn't you speak with him that day?” asked Hermione.

“Few reasons. Dumbledore said it'd help build up his trust, if we came back when we said we would. It meant they could have a proper squiz at the fire and see it was the real deal. And it meant we didn't confuse 'im with too much information at once,” said Hagrid.

Harry leaned back to survey Hagrid's face, which was now beginning to look mostly normal, and narrowed his eyes. “Hagrid, is your nose broken?”

“Might be,” Hagrid said.

Harry sighed. “ _Episkey_ ,” he said, thoroughly sick of the word by now. 

Hagrid went cross-eyed as he looked down at his nose, then gave a deep sniff. “Much better, thanks.”

“No problem,” Harry said, then set to work getting rid of the blood.

“What happened the next morning?” Draco asked impatiently.

“Right, well, we went back and gave him an indestructible, goblin-made battle helmet, and then we sat down with 'im in the snow and talked. A few other giants sat down with us, and the English speakin' ones translated everythin' fer us. We told 'em about Dumbledore – Karkus'd heard of 'im, which was good, heard that he'd bin against killin' the last British giants. And Karkus seemed to like what we was sayin'. So we left in a good mood, promisin' ter come back again the next day with another present.”

“That's great,” Hermione said with a smile.

“We thought so too,” Hagrid said with a sigh. “It all went belly up that night. There was a fight, see. Dunno what about – could've been food, or mates, or just someone lookin' at someone else the wrong way. Olympe and I watched it from our cave. It were all lit up by their fires, and yeh'd be surprised at how fast they can move, giants, when they want ter. The noise was terrible – we couldn't've slept even if we'd wanted ter.”

Harry lowered his wand and listened along in horror with Hermione and Draco.

“We went down in the mornin', and what we saw...” Hagrid shuddered. “The ground was covered in blood, we had ter walk through puddles o' the stuff, between the bodies. His was the biggest.”

“Whose?” asked Harry with a sinking feeling. 

“Karkus'. His head was lyin' at the bottom o' the lake, and his body was just sittin' out in the sun, next to the new Gurg, Golgomath. He was even bigger and uglier than Karkus'd bin, and was wearin' a necklace made o' what I reckon ter be human bones. But we had ter try, didn't we? Olympe and I, we went down ter speak ter him. We gave him the next gift – a roll of dragon skin – but he didn't want nothin' ter do with us, 'cause we'd bin friendly with his rival. Soon as I'd handed over the skin, two of his cronies'd grabbed me and flipped me upside-down.”

“What did you do?” asked Draco.

“Me?” Hagrid shook his head. “Nothin'. They was both twice my size. It were Olympe that saved me, hit 'em both with Conjunctivitis Curses right between the eyes, and they dropped me quick smart. I'd be dead if she hadn't've bin there, no doubt about that. O' course, that made 'em real mad, usin' magic against 'em, so we had ter run fer our lives. We knew there was no going' back, not with Golgomath in charge.”

“Then how come it took you so long to get back home?” asked Draco. “If it took a month to get there and you were only there three days, you should've gotten back in, what, late August?”

“We didn't leave after three days! Dumbledore'd given us a mission!” Hagrid cried, offended. “Nah, we figured we just had ter change our tactics a bit. But then the Death Eaters arrived.”

“How many of them?” asked Harry.

“Just two, but two was enough fer what they wanted ter do. Like us, they took gifts ter Golgomath, but 'e didn't hang _them_ upside-down,” Hagrid said bitterly.

“Are you sure they were Death Eaters and not, I don't know, some anthropologists or something?” asked Hermione.

“We caught wind o' some o' their conversations, enough ter hear 'em spruikin' You-Know-Who,” Hagrid said darkly. “So me and Olympe, we sat down ter work out _another_ strategy, and we decided that if the Death Eaters had managed ter convince Golgomath ter join 'em, well, maybe we could get some o' the ones who didn't want him as their Gurg.”

“How did you do that if you couldn't go back down into the valley?” asked Hermione.

“Didn't have ter. The ones that'd bin against Golgomath had bin beaten up and crawled away into the mountains, hidin' in caves like we were. We waited until dark and went lookin' for 'em,” Hagrid said.

“In the dark? You went looking for giants in the dark?” Draco asked incredulously.

Hagrid shrugged. “They was in no position ter hurt us, not after Goglomath and 'is followers had gotten through with 'em. We was more worried about the Death Eaters – Golgomath had told 'em we were there, so they were lookin' fer us the same time we was lookin' fer the giants. We had ter hide from 'em, though Olympe wanted ter attack 'em. She was hard ter hold back, I tell yeh,” Hagrid said, smiling off into the distance.

Draco cleared his throat pointedly. “Did you end up finding any?”

“Yep. Three nights after Karkus died, we found three giants sharin' a cave. They was all injured somethin' shockin', but one of 'em spoke English, so they listened to us. We kept goin' back each night after that – we had six or seven convinced at one stage.”

“Had?” asked Hermione.

Hagrid nodded sadly. “One night Golgomath sent a raid into the caves, wiped out most of 'is rivals. The survivors didn't want nothin' ter do with us after that.”

“So Voldemort's won,” Harry said glumly. “At least with the giants, anyway.”

“Maybe. Might be some of 'em remember what we told 'em about Dumbledore, that he'd welcome them,” Hagrid said, though he didn't sound very hopeful.

He leaned forward for his mug and drained it, setting it back down heavily.

“Hagrid?” Hermione asked tentatively.

“Yeah?”

“While you were there, was there... Did you hear anything about your mother?” she asked in a rush.

Hagrid bent his head. “Dead. Has been fer years, they said.”

“I'm sorry,” Hermione said quietly.

Hagrid shook his head. “'S'not like I remember her all that well.”

Hermione cast her gaze on the boys, clearly wanting one of them to break the silence.

“Er, do you have anything else that needs fixing?” Harry asked.

Hagrid finally looked up again. “Got a couple of banged up ribs, if yeh're up fer it.”

Harry nodded and raised his wand, but Hermione shook her head. “You won't be able to fix them.”

“Why not?” Harry asked indignantly. “I've done a good enough job on the rest of you, haven't I, Hagrid?”

“Course yeh have,” Hagrid agreed.

“I'm not saying you didn't, Harry. But Hagrid's half-giant. His skin's too thick for most spells to penetrate,” Hermione clarified.

“Then how come my spells have worked so far?” asked Harry.

“They were more superficial injuries. I'm afraid you'll have to see Madam Pomfrey for your ribs, Hagrid,” Hermione said apologetically.

“That's alright. Harry's done what he could. I can see properly again, at least,” Hagrid said. “Now, what about this adoption? When did that happen?”

“Early July. I wanted to tell you, but -”

Harry stopped talking abruptly when there was a loud knocking on the door. Hermione gasped and dropped her mug on the floor. Luckily, the sound of Fang's barking covered the sound of the mug shattering. Everyone looked at the door in time to see a short, squat shadow move across the curtained window beside it.

“It's the toad,” Draco hissed. He leapt up and grabbed his and Harry's mugs, thrusting them into Hagrid's hands. “Hide them!”

Harry pulled his Cloak out of his pocket and swung it over himself and Hermione. “Hurry up, Draco!” he whispered.

Draco darted around the table and joined them under the Cloak. They backed into a corner while Hagrid shoved their mugs into a cupboard, slammed it shut again and then went to his front door. He held onto Fang's collar with one hand and opened the door.

Umbridge was on the threshold, again in the green tweed cloak she'd worn to the Quidditch match that day. She'd added a matching hat with earflaps, increasing her resemblance to a toad, especially considering how small she was compared to Hagrid.

She leaned back in order to see Hagrid's face. “You must be Hagrid,” she said in a slow, loud voice, as if she thought him incapable of understanding English.

She walked past him without letting him respond, her gaze taking in every detail of his cabin, from the travelling cloak and bag, to the broken mug. Fang rushed over to her and tried to lick her, only to get hit on the shoulder with her handbag.

“Filthy mongrel,” she spat at him.

Hagrid shut the door and frowned at her. “Who're you?” he asked gruffly.

“I am Dolores Umbridge,” she replied, not looking at him. 

She was still inspecting the cabin, and Harry felt a chill go through him when she looked directly at the corner he was standing in with Draco and Hermione. Harry carefully bent his head down and gave a silent sigh of relief: the Cloak was still covering them, right down to the floor.

Hagrid's frown deepened. “Dolores Umbridge? Don't you work for Fudge? What are you doing in my cabin?”

“I was the Senior Undersecretary to the Minister for Magic until this September, when I was appointed to be Hogwarts' new professor for Defence Against the Dark Arts,” Umbridge said.

“Defence, eh? That's brave of yeh, not many people are willin' ter take on that position no more,” Hagrid said.

“I have more recently been assigned to the position of Hogwarts High Inquisitor,” Umbridge continued.

“What's that then?” asked Hagrid.

“Part of my duties involve inspecting the other staff at this school,” Umbridge said, finally turning to face Hagrid.

“Inspectin' us? What for?”

“To make sure that you are all meeting the Ministry's standards for education. The Minister for Magic has been hearing the most alarming tales of the teaching standards here at Hogwarts. It's my job to get identify and remove any sub-standard staff members,” Umbridge said, smiling most unpleasantly.

“Yeh won't find none here, not at Hogwarts,” Hagrid said, though Harry could tell he was nervous.

Umbridge gave a most unimpressed sniff. “Where have you been? Surely even the most incompetent teacher understands that they must be at the school in order to teach.”

“I – I've been away fer me health,” Hagrid said.

Umbridge peered sharply at him. “Your health? What's wrong with you?”

“I – that's none o' yer business, my health,” Hagrid blustered.

“It's entirely my business if you have brought some sort of contagious disease onto the school grounds,” Umbridge replied.

Hagrid waved one massive hand. “Nah, it's not contagious. I just needed some fresh air.”

“And you are unable to find fresh air in your duties as gamekeeper here?” Umbridge said.

Draco gave a barely audible groan in Harry's ear.

“Did I say fresh air?” Hagrid asked, looking in a panic at the corner where the kids were hidden. “I meant, er, warm air. It's cold up here in Scotland, yeh know.”

“And you found this _warm air_ where, exactly?” asked Umbridge.

“South o' France,” Hagrid said at once.

Harry smiled; that almost sounded like Hagrid was telling the truth. 

“The south of France? You didn't go further east? To the mountains, perhaps?” asked Umbridge.

She knows, Harry thought in horror. How can she know?

“East? Nah. I went ter visit my friend, she's the Headmistress of Beauxbatons – yeh do know o' Beauxbatons, don't yeh?” asked Hagrid.

“Of course I do,” Umbridge snapped.

“Well, I stayed there fer a while, then travelled around France fer a bit. Went ter Dee-John -”

“Very well,” Umbridge interrupted. “Next time you feel the need for _warm air_ , you will inform your colleagues of your whereabouts, and return to Hogwarts before term starts. You are aware that another professor has had to cover your classes for you?”

“I'll get Grubbly-Plank's notes tomorrow,” Hagrid said casually.

“I see,” Umbridge said. Harry had the distinct impression she was filing that away, in order to be added to her clipboard later. “I'll be seeing you soon for your inspection. I hope you're looking forward to it as much as I am.”

She gave one last contemptuous glance around the cabin, again lingering on the corner where the kids were hiding, then let herself out of the cabin. There was a collective sigh of relief, then Hermione went to step out from under the Cloak.

“She might be hanging around,” Harry hissed quickly.

Hagrid walked over to the door and peered out through a crack in the curtain. “She's going back ter the castle.”

Harry dragged the Cloak off himself, Hermione and Draco, and they sat back down at the table.

“So she's inspectin' teachers?” Hagrid said, joining them at the table.

“Yeah. Trelawney's already on probation,” Harry said.

Hagrid snorted. “Yeah, well, she's always bin a bit funny, that one.”

“Hagrid, it's not just Trelawney she's been aiming for, and she doesn't use the same tactics for each professor. She gave Snape a hard time over Harry. She'll probably try to use your giant heritage against you,” Hermione said.

Hagrid looked worried, but shook his head. “That all came out last year, didn't it? She can't be worse than Skeeter.”

Draco leaned forward. “Hagrid, she has the Minister for Magic endorsing her. I doubt even Mother's blackmail skills would be able to compete with Umbridge.”

“She called Remus a half-breed in class, Hagrid. She's completely awful,” Harry said.

“Do you have a lesson plan?” asked Hermione.

“Oh, yeah, I've got some great creatures lined up fer yer OWLs,” Hagrid said enthusiastically.

Hermione shared a worried glance with the boys. “When you say 'great' -”

“Yeh'll love 'em,” Hagrid said.

“Are they what most of us would call monsters?” Draco asked.

Hagrid chuckled. “Nah, yeh'll like 'em.”

Hermione met Draco's gaze, and with a huff, clearly decided to abandon all trace of subtlety. “Hagrid, you cannot bring anything dangerous to class. She'll have you on probation in a second.”

“It'll be fine,” Hagrid said.

“Yes, well, you also decided to breed Blast-Ended Skrewts, so forgive us for not trusting your judgement on this topic,” Draco said.

Hagrid scowled. “Show a little faith, will yeh?”

Hermione tried again. “If you could just tell us what you've got planned -”

“Nothin' doin', Hermione. Wouldn't want ter spoil the surprise,” said Hagrid.

Hermione met his gaze, then nodded curtly. “Fine,” she said, standing up. “I'm glad you're back, but we really should be getting back to our dorms.”

She raised an eyebrow at the boys, who stood up too. 

“Welcome back,” Harry said.

Hagrid nodded. “Thanks fer visitin'. I'll see yeh all in class.”

Back outside, Draco once again used Obliteration Charms on their footprints as they trudged back up to the castle.

“Are you giving up that soon?” Harry asked Hermione.

“Of course not. I'll come back down tomorrow morning. Hopefully, he'll be more persuadable after he's slept on it,” she said.

“I'll come with you,” Harry offered.

Hermione twisted her head under the Cloak to meet his eye. “Don't take this the wrong way, but I'd rather you didn't.”

“Why not?” Harry asked.

“He's acting very cagey about something. If you come with me, he might try to change the topic by asking you about your adoption. I don't want to give him the opportunity,” Hermione said.

“That's very Slytherin of you,” Draco said in an admiring tone from behind them.

Hermione snorted. “It's pretty obvious he's hiding something. I'm sure we'll find out what it is eventually -”

“Well yeah, it's Hagrid, he's even worse than Pansy at keeping a secret,” Harry said with a laugh.

“- but in the mean time, I'm going to make sure that Umbridge doesn't get an excuse to throw him out of Hogwarts!” Hermione said stubbornly.

“At least let me get some bruise paste off my dad for you to take to Hagrid, since you won't let me come with you,” said Harry.

“That would be good,” Hermione replied.

They stopped talking after they'd snuck back inside the castle. Harry and Draco walked Hermione back up to her common room, then returned to the dungeons once she'd gotten safely through the portrait hole.

“Think she'll succeed?” Harry whispered as they neared their own common room.

“With Hagrid? I hope so. I can only imagine what he might have brought back from his travels,” Draco whispered with a shudder.

“As long as he didn't stop off at that dragon reserve in Romania, we should be okay,” Harry said hopefully.

Draco groaned. “What did you have to mention that for?”

Harry spun around and pressed Draco against the wall. “I'll make it up to you,” he promised, mouthing kisses up along Draco's neck.

Draco moaned and pulled him closer. “You have your work cut out for you.”

Harry slid a hand down between himself and Draco. “I think I can handle that.”


	19. In Which Hermione and Pansy Join Forces Once Again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Great news! As of this chapter, Leo Inter Serpentes is being betaed by the fabulous Charlie_Paloma! So if you notice less typos and just better writing in general, it's down to her invaluable input! Any remaining mistakes or stupid ideas are entirely my fault.

Harry and Draco didn't see Hermione again until their Potions class on Monday, after Hagrid had reappeared at the staff table for breakfast that morning. They huddled together at one end of the corridor, a few metres away from where their classmates were waiting outside the classroom, to discuss Hermione's progress with Hagrid.

“He's completely impossible,” she moaned.

“Did he tell you what he's hiding?” Harry asked.

She shook her head despondently. “No. He also refused to tell me what creatures he's got lined up for us. Or what gave him all of those injuries. He had a few fresh cuts and bruises as well.”

“More injuries?” Harry asked in alarm.

Hermione sighed. “Yes. I healed the cuts with that spell you used, then gave him the bruise paste and tried to use that to guilt him into coming clean, but he was too stubborn.”

“Try extortion next time,” suggested Draco.

“You better be joking,” Hermione said.

Draco shrugged. “We had so much fun with blackmail last year, we should try something a little different this year, don't you think? Just tell him you won't heal him unless he confesses.”

“No, Malfoy,” Hermione said firmly. “I'm sure I can get him to come around without stooping that low.”

“You have far too many principles,” Draco retorted. “He'd thank you in the long run, if you saved him from Umbridge.”

Hermione just shook her head again. “No.”

Tuesday brought yet another uncomfortable Divination lesson, during which Trelawney spent more time muttering bitterly to herself than actually teaching the class. Daphne, Pansy and Harry spent their time discussing the girls' love lives. 

Daphne had spent most of Halloween night on the Astronomy Tower with a Hufflepuff seventh year. She refused to elaborate on what he had done, but Harry gathered he was not at all up to Daphne's usual snogging standards. She had ditched him and fled to the common room, where she walked in on Pansy and Millicent having a very public break up. Weeks later, Pansy and Millicent still weren't speaking to each other, and Daphne had decided to set her sights on Adrian.

“You play Quidditch with him – he isn't seeing anyone, is he?” she asked Harry.

“Not that I know of,” Harry said.

“He's been single ever since he got dumped by Hayley last year,” Pansy added.

Daphne nodded, unsurprised that Pansy knew more than Harry, and started pressing for more details. As he listened to their conversation, Harry grew more and more impressed with just how much work Daphne put into flirting with people.

“Is it really worth all the effort?” he asked her.

“Duh. Why do you think I have a hundred percent success rate with getting who I want? Not even Blaise can boast that,” Daphne said smugly.

“He's still got a pretty good average. Besides, boys are easy, of course you're going to find it easier,” Pansy said dismissively.

“Hey!” objected Harry.

“Are lesbians experts on boys, now?” asked Daphne.

“I've told you before, I'm bi, not gay, and I never said I was an expert,” Pansy shot back.

“Well, I am,” Daphne said, sticking her nose in the air.

Pansy's expression turned sly. “Yeah? Five Galleons says you can't snog him before the week's up.”

“You're on, Parkinson. Easiest money I've ever made,” Daphne said with a smirk.

“Is there anything that doesn't get bet on in this place?” asked Harry in an undertone.

“Not much,” Daphne said, picking up her textbook when Trelawney finally decided to check on her class.

The girls' banter had distracted him for the morning, but after the mid-morning break Harry returned to worrying about Hagrid's first lesson. He was distracted all throughout Herbology, and then spent most of lunch pushing his food idly around his plate. He would have walked down to Care of Magical Creatures without any warm winter clothing if Draco and Blaise hadn't dragged him back to their dorm before class.

“He'll be fine,” Draco said quietly on their way down to Hagrid's cabin.

“That was a lot more reassuring when you were talking about Dad,” Harry muttered. “You know what Hagrid's like – he'll start blabbing about illegally breeding some sort of horrible monster the second she shows up.”

Draco opened his mouth to argue back, but sighed and shut it again after a few seconds. They walked the rest of the way in silence, trudging through the snow to where Hagrid was waiting for the class by the outskirts of the Forbidden Forest. Fang was nowhere to be seen. Coupled with the fact that Hagrid had half a dead cow slung over his shoulder and some fresh cuts on his face, this gave Harry a sinking feeling that whatever they were going to be studying today was precisely the sort of creature that might get Hagrid put on probation. One glance at Hermione, where she was shivering next to Neville, told him that she shared his pessimism.

Hagrid beamed around at the class. “Everyone here? Good. We'll be workin' in here today,” he jerked his thumb over his shoulder at the Forest. “They like the dark, and the snow's not so bad under the trees. I've bin savin' this lesson fer yer fifth year. It's best ter see 'em in their natural habitat, but you were all too young before now.”

The class was becoming more and more visibly nervous at Hagrid's words, but he showed no sign of noticing. 

“At least Umbridge isn't here to see whatever we're about to,” Harry muttered to Draco.

“How reassuring,” Draco drawled.

“Now, these are mighty rare,” Hagrid continued, “and not that easy ter train. I don't reckon anyone else in Britain's managed to domesticate a herd of 'em before. Not that I heard of, at least.”

“Are you absolutely sure they're fully trained?” Draco burst out. “I mean, after the Skrewts...”

Hagrid waved a hand airily. “Ain't nothin' like the Skrewts, Draco.”

“Thank god for that,” Draco replied.

Daphne put her hand up. “Then what happened to your face? Did these things do it?” she asked timidly.

“What, these?” Hagrid pointed at his cuts. “I, er, tripped over Fang the other day, fell inter a bush. Nothin' yeh need ter be worryin' about.”

Daphne nodded but didn't look at all convinced.

Hagrid shifted his grip on the dead cow. “If no one else's got a question, let's get goin'!”

He turned and walked into the Forest. There was a moment while the class stayed where they were, then Harry took a deep breath, grabbed Draco's hand and led him forward. Hermione and Neville followed a couple of seconds later, with the rest of the class bringing up the rear.

They walked in silence as they followed Hagrid deeper into the Forest. The trees grew closer together, making it darker the further the class walked. By the time Hagrid came to a stop and dumped the cow on the ground, the trees were so close together that Harry couldn't see the sky at all. It was far darker than he would've liked, but on the plus side, there was no snow. He was still cold, but at least the hems of his robe and cloak were no longer getting damp. Like the rest of the class, he was peering around nervously for whatever it was that Hagrid had brought them to see.

Hagrid beckoned everyone closer. “Budge up, everyone, that's it, keep close. Now, they'll've caught a whiff o' the cow by now, and be on their way, but I'll give 'em a call anyway just so they know it's me.”

He turned his back on the class, raised his face skywards and gave a shrill shriek, like some sort of gigantic bird. He waited a few seconds then repeated the sound. Harry looked around nervously. Nothing appeared.

“Ah, 'bout time!” Hagrid said.

Harry looked at him in confusion, wondering if Hagrid had lost his mind. Beside him, Draco appeared to be as lost as he did. Harry turned to his left to Hermione. She shrugged minutely, but on her other side, Neville was staring wide-eyed at the cow carcass. 

Harry followed his gaze in time to see a chunk of meat disappear from the cow's shoulder.

“Look at the cow,” he whispered.

Draco and Hermione did as he bid, then both gasped when another chunk of flesh was ripped from the cow.

“Hagrid, what is it?” Hermione asked.

“Thestrals!” Hagrid said happily. “Here comes another one – on yer left, Parvati, don't be alarmed.”

Parvati gave a panicked look to her left and quickly hid behind a tree.

“Now, who here can see 'em?” Hagrid asked, gazing around expectantly.

Neville raised a hesitant hand. He was followed a second later by Blaise.

Hagrid nodded. “Neville, why don't yeh describe 'em fer the rest o' the class?”

Neville swallowed. “They're black horses, with wings and glowing white eyes. But they're really skinny, almost skeletal, and their skin's all leathery, not furry like a normal horse.”

Hagrid smiled at him. “Right you are. Does anyone know why some people can see 'em and others can't?”

Hermione's hand shot into the air. “Thestrals can only be seen by someone who has seen death.”

“Exactly. That's given 'em a bit of a bad reputation -”

“They're _really_ unlucky!” Lavender burst out. “Professor Trelawney says -”

“Professor Trelawney will have told yeh about the superstitions around Thestrals, which aren't true,” Hagrid said firmly. “Now, I'd say Thestrals are the smartest sort o' winged horse around, save fer Hippogriffs. Remember the Abraxans last year? Thestrals make 'em look like trolls. I've got this lot trained ter pull the carriages you all travel in to and from the Hogwarts Express, but that don't tax 'em too -”

“Hem, hem.”

The class turned as one to see Umbridge standing behind them. Hagrid looked over the top of their heads. 

“I assume you read the note I sent to your cabin this morning?” Umbridge asked, again in that slow, loud voice she'd used with him the other night. “The one telling you I would be inspecting today's class?”

“Yeah. Yeh got my note with the directions, then? No troubles findin' us?” Hagrid asked.

“Not once I deciphered your handwriting, no,” Umbridge said.

Hagrid frowned momentarily at her rude tone, then forced a smile back onto his face. “Great. Just outta interest, can yeh see the Thestrals?” he asked, pointing at what Harry guessed must be a Thestral.

“See the what?” Umbridge asked even more loudly.

“The Thestrals!” Hagrid said, also raising his voice. He flapped his arms a couple of times. “Big winged horses!”

Umbridge bent her head over her clipboard. “Uses crude sign language to communicate,” she muttered perfectly audibly.

Hagrid frowned again, then turned back to the class. “Now, what was I sayin'?”

“Seems to have poor short term memory,” Umbridge continued, scribbling away on her clipboard.

Hagrid blinked at her. Next to Harry, Hermione made a small noise of anger, reddening as she narrowed her eyes at Umbridge.

“You were telling us about their intelligence before you got interrupted,” Draco called out.

“Right, yeah, thanks, Draco,” Hagrid said, giving him a weak smile. “Yeah, Thestrals are smart horses. Amazin' sense o' direction, too, all yeh'd need ter do is tell one where yeh want ter go, and it could take you there, even if it's never bin there before. Might not be the comfiest ride, mind, they're pretty bony animals.

“Now, like I said earlier, this might be the only domesticated herd in Britain. I started with one male and five females. This here's Tenebrus,” Hagrid said, patting the air beside him, “and he's the first Thestral born here -”

“The Ministry of Magic classifies Thestrals as dangerous. What safety precautions have you in place to prevent them from harming the students?” Umbridge asked.

“Thestrals aren't dangerous! So they might give yeh a bite if yeh provoke 'em -”

“Enjoys the prospect of violence,” Umbridge noted.

“What? No!” Hagrid said. “Listen, they've never attacked a student, not once! They live in the Forbidden Forest, don't they, and students aren't allowed in here by themselves.”

“Little to no safety measures,” Umbridge said, then looked up from her clipboard. “Please continue your lesson,” she said slowly. “I am going to walk -” she mimed walking “amongst the class -” she pointed at the students one by one “- and ask them questions.” She opened and closed her hand to represent talking.

Hagrid stared at her in utter confusion over the way she was acting. Hermione's eyes were glittering with angry tears, and Draco's lip was curled in contempt. 

“You vile woman, I'll get you for this,” Hermione whispered furiously.

Harry put a hand on her shoulder. She shook him off without taking her eyes off Umbridge, who was now standing in front of Daphne. When Daphne stopped twirling her hair to give Umbridge a decidedly cool stare, Umbridge moved on to Greg.

“Tell me about some of the creatures you've studied in this class,” she said.

Greg's face grew slightly panicked. “Er, well, there were those big horses last year... I don't remember what they were called.”

“Poorly planned lessons leave students without any real knowledge of the subject,” Umbridge said, writing on her clipboard again.

Hagrid glanced at her unhappily, distracted from whatever he'd been about to say to the class.

“Of course Greg's going to say that, he's so dumb he wouldn't be able to remember anything from any class,” Harry said angrily. 

He felt a stab of guilt at the hurt look on Greg's face. Harry didn't like the ease with which he had lashed out at Greg with something so personal. With a bit of effort, he tamped down the guilt, and forced his attention back to Umbridge.

“Is that so?” she asked, glaring at Harry briefly then turning back to Greg. “Mr Goyle, is Mr Potter telling the truth about He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named?”

“No, Professor,” Greg said at once, giving Harry a defiant glare.

“There, you see, Mr Potter?” Umbridge said smugly. “Detention in my office at eight o'clock tonight for interrupting the class.”

Harry clenched his teeth at her blatant hypocrisy. “Yes, Professor,” he ground out.

He turned away from Umbridge to face Hagrid and cleared his mind before he could have another outburst. He didn't pay any more attention to either Hagrid or Umbridge for the rest of the lesson, instead worrying about the DA. They'd been scheduled to meet that night and now he'd have to cancel at short notice. Given that the upcoming Hufflepuff – Ravenclaw Quidditch match meant both of those teams were training heavily, he'd have to talk to Cedric and Cho before he could reschedule.

“Well that went about as well as expected,” Draco said sourly as they walked back up to the castle after class.

Harry blinked a few times as he stopped Occluding. “I have detention again, Hagrid lost the plot of what was actually an interesting, non-life-threatening lesson, and Hermione's out for revenge. It was certainly an eventful lesson.”

“Yes, what is Hermione planning, do you think?” Draco asked.

Harry followed his gaze to where Hermione was walking with her head bent towards Pansy's. “I don't know,” he said slowly, “but if I was Umbridge, I'd be worried about those two plotting together.”

********

  
Harry managed to talk to both Cedric and Cho during dinner. Back in his dorm, he charmed his fake Galleon with the new meeting time, then caught up on his Charms homework. Finally, at quarter to eight, he could put it off no longer, and set off for Umbridge's office. When he got there he paused to clear his mind before knocking on the door.

“Come in,” she called.

Harry walked in warily. There was no sign of any Blood Quills, but he'd bet his last Galleon she had something unpleasant planned for him.

“Good evening, Mr Potter,” she said, smiling at him from behind her desk.

“Good evening, professor,” he said.

“Sit down,” she ordered, gesturing at the single table and chair she'd set up in front of her desk.

Harry did so, slowly sliding his schoolbag off his shoulder onto the floor. 

“You still seem to be having trouble grasping some basic truths of our world,” Umbridge said, clasping her hands together on top of her desk. “This must be rectified at once. You shall therefore be reading through some articles from the _Daily Prophet_ , carefully selected to re-educate you about current affairs. And so that I know you have actually read what I am about to give you, you shall be transcribing every article for me.”

Harry nodded; he had a feeling he knew exactly the sort of articles he was about to read. “With my own quill this time?”

Umbridge's eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly. “Yes, Mr Potter.”

With that, she stood up and picked up a stack of parchment and a thin leather folder. She put both on Harry's table and rested her hand on the folder. 

“You will not be leaving this office until every article has been copied out word for word,” she said sweetly, then returned to her chair.

Harry bent down to get a quill and some ink out of his bag, set them on the table, and opened up the folder. He found himself staring at a picture of himself, taken for the Triwizard Tournament, underneath the headline _The Boy Who Lies?_

He dipped his quill into his ink pot without raising his eyes from the paper and set to work. After one paragraph he could tell why Severus had cancelled his subscription to the paper. The first article made Skeeter's stories from the year before seem positively friendly. 

_Potter – a fourteen-year-old boy – claims to have personally bested You-Know-Who in a duel... Minister for Magic personally saw the boy in the Hogwarts hospital wing, receiving treatment for a serious head injury... When naming the Death Eaters who supposedly witnessed this duel, Potter didn't hesitate to list the fathers of some of his own friends. Revenge for some school yard argument, perhaps?_

The following articles weren't as direct in their criticisms of Harry. Just like Severus had said back in July, Harry was just mentioned in passing in completely unrelated stories. There were more articles attacking Dumbledore, which Harry supposed made sense; he was a far more public figure than Harry, after all, and the _Prophet_ gleefully reported each and every title or position that Dumbledore had lost since June.

He got to an article on his adoption and had to take a deep breath before he could continue, even with his mind cleared. The entire thing was a more sophisticated way of saying what Dudley had during Harry's last day in Little Whinging: who'd want _Harry?_ After rehashing all of Harry's perceived faults, it speculated that the only reason Severus had adopted him was because he was dumb enough to believe Harry's lies, then asked if such a man was suitable to teach the nation's children.

Harry hadn't thought it could get much worse than that article, but that was before he came across the letters. He had no idea if there had been anyone who had written to the _Prophet_ in support of him, but there were certainly a large number who had written in to assure the _Prophet_ over their continued loyalty to the Ministry. Harry had never realised just how many different words there were to call someone a crazy, attention-seeking liar. The kindest letter he read was someone saying they hoped Harry would be very happy with Severus, so that they would leave the rest of the wizarding world alone.

It was nearly eleven o'clock before Harry finished. His hand was cramping, but that was nothing compared to the emotional pain of reading about how much the general public disliked him. Some of the letter writers had shared surnames with some of his classmates.

“I'm done, professor,” he said quietly, laying his quill on the table.

Umbridge looked up from some essays she'd been marking. “Very good, Mr Potter. I trust that tonight's activity will give you pause next time you think about speaking out of turn. You may go.”

Harry swept his quill and ink pot into his bag and hauled it out of the door. He walked quickly through the quiet castle, eager to put as much distance between himself and Umbridge as possible.

When he got to the dungeons he walked straight past the Slytherin common room to Severus' quarters. He pressed his hand to the guard stone and slipped inside the door as soon as it appeared. 

“Dad?”

“One moment!” came a muffled reply.

Harry walked over to the fireplace and dropped his schoolbag on the floor. A few seconds later Severus walked out of his bedroom. He was wearing his pyjamas and belting his dressing gown around himself. “Is this about your detention?” he asked.

“Yeah, I – I didn't wake you up, did I?” Harry asked.

Severus shook his head. “I was reading in bed.”

“Right,” Harry said in relief. “How'd you know I had detention? She didn't send me to you this time.”

“As the Head of House, I am informed any time a Slytherin is given detention. Umbridge took particular delight informing me that she'd assigned you another detention,” Severus explained. “What did she do? She didn't hurt you again, did she?”

Harry shook his head. “No, not physically, at least. She made me copy out all the _Daily Prophet_ articles that mention me, you or Dumbledore. And a whole bunch of letters that people had written into the paper.”

Severus' nostrils flared. “Sit. I'll bring you some tea,” he said. He walked into the kitchen while Harry sank down gratefully onto the couch. “I have to hand it to her, this was a brilliant punishment. It's perfectly allowable to make a student copy out text during a detention, and this was bound to cause you psychological discomfort. Are you alright?”

“Fine,” Harry said, kicking off his shoes and drawing his knees up to his chest. “I cleared my mind again, which helped, but it still sucked to read what people had been saying about me. I thought it'd been bad when I came back here in September and everyone was talking about me, but some of what they'd written was bloody vicious.”

Severus sighed. “I had tried to spare you that, particularly that article about the adoption.”

“Yeah, I know,” Harry said, playing with the hem of his pants.

“They're completely wrong about you, you must know that,” Severus continued.

“Yeah. You too,” Harry said, dropping his hand.

Severus picked up the tea tray and carried it over to the coffee table. “Are you still Occluding?”

“Yeah, I am,” Harry said, mildly surprised that he'd forgotten he was doing it. He stopped and blinked a few times. “How'd you know?”

“Your voice still changes when you Occlude, though it was barely perceptible just now,” Severus said. He poured two cups of tea and handed one to Harry. “Do you need a pain reliever?”

Harry considered this. “No, I don't. My head's fine. Was earlier today, too, when I Occluded as she picked on Hagrid during his inspection. That's a good sign, right?”

Severus smiled. “Indeed. Incidentally, what have you planned for Umbridge?”

Harry shrugged. “Nothing.”

Severus raised an eyebrow. “Do you mean to tell me that you witnessed her ridiculing Hagrid during his inspection and you have no plans for revenge?”

“I was more concerned with thinking of what day this week I could reschedule the DA meeting we were supposed to have tonight,” Harry explained, then grinned. “Besides, Hermione seemed like she had it all under control. And she's teamed up with Pansy by the looks of things.”

“Hermione and Pansy are conspiring together against Umbridge?” Severus smiled too, the sort of smile that usually meant a student was about to get a week's worth of detentions. “She won't know what's hit her.”

They shared a laugh, then fell into a comfortable silence. A combination of Severus' company and the familiar, distinctive aroma of the cardamom scented tea that he brewed soon had Harry feeling much better. What did it matter, really, what strangers thought of him? Everyone he cared about believed him instead of thinking he was crazy or lying. He said as much to Severus when he finished his tea.

“That's a mature outlook,” Severus replied.

“Right, thanks,” Harry said, then looked at his watch and stood up. “I should get back to my dorm.”

“Do you have your Cloak with you?” asked Severus. When Harry shook his head, he stood up. “I'll walk you to the common room.”

Halfway there, Harry glanced up at Severus. “Thanks for, you know, being there for me tonight.”

Severus put a hand on Harry's shoulder and squeezed it briefly. “It's what parents are for. Good night.”

“Night, Dad,” Harry said. “ _Open_ ,” he hissed, then walked into the common room. 

He was halfway to the corridor leading to the boys dorms when he heard the entrance slid open again behind him. He turned around, thinking Severus might've forgotten to tell him something, only to see Daphne and Adrian slink inside. He smirked at them while the entrance slid shut again; they'd clearly just been caught out in the corridor by Severus.

“Your dad sucks,” Adrian said to him after a beat.

“Really?” Harry asked in amusement.

Daphne merely winked at him, took Adrian's hand and dragged him uncomplainingly off to a couch by the fire. Harry grinned and continued on to his dorm. Pansy's reaction to losing this bet would make History of Magic entertaining the following morning.

********

  
November sped past in a blur of study for Harry. On top of his actual school work, he had DA lessons to plan. They'd moved on from first aid to Stunning, and Harry was reading up on Disillusionment Charms in preparation for teaching them after the group had mastered Patronuses, which they were due to start after they returned to Hogwarts after the Christmas break. There was also the never ending Occlumency practises. Harry was making slow but noticeable progress on his shield, and Severus had told him that at their next Sunday dinner, he'd be performing Legilimency on Harry again – only this time, he expected Harry to hold him out for longer than he had the first time.

All of this was weighing down on Harry as he took his seat in the Slytherin stand for the Hufflepuff – Ravenclaw Quidditch match. He couldn't even properly relax during the match; Slytherin would be playing Ravenclaw in the first match of the new year, and Adrian had told the Slytherin team to study the way the Ravenclaws flew.

Only a few weeks until Christmas break, Harry told himself, peering down at the pitch to watch the teams line up. 

Then Hermione and Pansy sat down on either side of him.

“Do you mind, Parkinson?” Draco snapped after being unceremoniously pushed down the bench. 

“No, but thanks for asking,” she said over her shoulder. “Now, Harry. We need to talk.”

Harry looked between the two girls. “Is this about what you've been plotting since Hagrid was inspected?”

“Keep it down,” Hermione hissed. 

“Yes, it is,” Pansy said in a calmer tone; the noise of crowd pretty much guaranteed they wouldn't be overheard. “Whatever plans you have for the next Hogsmeade weekend need to be cancelled.”

Harry frowned in thought. The next Hogsmeade weekend was the following Saturday. “I'm just doing some Christmas shopping.”

“Oh, in that case, we can work around that,” Hermione said.

“Care to tell me what you've got planned for me?” he asked pointedly.

“What, and spoil the surprise? I don't think so,” Pansy said with a giggle.

“You've got enough to worry about right now, Harry,” Hermione said quietly. “We'll take care of the details. All you need to do is agree to come to the Three Broomsticks with us first thing. Alone,” she added, shooting a warning look past him at Draco.

Harry narrowed his eyes, trying in vain to figure out the catch. “Fine.”

Both girls beamed at him. 

“Great! Now if you'll excuse me, I have an ex-girlfriend to find,” Pansy said.

“You're talking again?” asked Harry.

Pansy winked at him. “I've decided I'm getting her back.”

She stood up and edged her way past Harry and Hermione to join Millicent, who was sitting next to Theo. Hermione turned to her right to talk to Tracey while Draco scooted back next to Harry. 

“What was that about?” he asked.

“I've no idea,” Harry said truthfully.

He gave Draco a confused smile before returning his attention to the match and trying to see what Cho was up to.

********

  
The day of the Hogsmeade visit was cold and windy, the weak November sun struggling to emerge from the clouds for more than a few minutes at a time. Harry put on the winter cloak Draco and Narcissa had given him for his birthday, a scarf and gloves, then walked to the common room to meet Pansy. When she didn't arrive on time, he decided to head to her dorm to hurry her up.

Just as he raised his hand to knock on the door, it was yanked open from inside and Pansy rushed out, smoothing her hair with one hand and applying lipstick with her other. “I'm late, I know, sorry,” she said breathlessly when she saw him.

“Er, okay,” Harry said, hurrying to follow after her. “What's happened?”

Pansy beamed at him. “Milly and I got back together. I'm meeting her after we're done at the Three Broomsticks.”

Harry smiled back at her. “Good for you. I guess that explains why your jumper's on inside out.”

Pansy looked down at herself, swore, and quickly righted her clothing without missing a step.

They found Hermione waiting for them in the Entrance Hall, already in the line to be marked off by Filch. 

“All set?” she asked Pansy.

“Yeah, she's looking forward to it,” Pansy replied, joining her in line.

Harry looked between them. “Who's looking forward to what?”

“You'll see,” Hermione said.

Harry spent the walk to Hogsmeade trying to get the girls to tell him what they had planned for him, which they stubbornly refused to do.

“Look, Potter, sometimes you're not told things for your own good,” Pansy eventually said.

“Just trust us, Harry,” Hermione said.

“You're really not being at all reassuring,” he grumbled, but stopped questioning them all the same. No matter what they had in store for him, at least he could always grab a Butterbeer at the pub.

When they entered the Three Broomsticks Pansy walked straight to the bar and caught Rosmerta's eye.

“She's in her usual room, dear,” Rosmerta called over the din of her patrons.

“Thanks, Rosmerta!” Pansy called back, then grabbed Harry and dragged him through the crowd.

Hermione followed close behind them as they walked up the staircase next to the bar. Instead of walking straight ahead, like they had when they'd met Narcissa here last year, Pansy turned right at the top of the stairs. She knocked on a door and walked in without waiting for an answer.

“Mum!” 

Pansy let go of Harry's arm and rushed forward to hug her mother. Freed, Harry considered making an attempt to duck back out of the room – he had a feeling he knew what was about to happen – but decided it would be too rude. Resigned to giving an interview (because what else could the girls have planned?), Harry sighed and waited for the Parkinsons to stop hugging.

“Mum, this is Hermione, and you remember Harry of course,” Pansy said, finally turning away from her mother.

She held out her hand to Hermione. “Call me Polly. Pansy's told me so much about you.”

“Pleased to meet you,” Hermione said politely, shaking Polly's hand.

“And Harry, it's good to see you again,” Polly said. “Come, let's sit down, shall we? Anyone feeling a bit peckish?”

She shooed them all over to the squashy armchairs that were clustered around a coffee table. There was a range of nibbles laid out on the table, along with some bottles of Butterbeer and a tea set. There was a roaring fire in the fireplace, for which Harry was grateful after the biting wind they'd had to walk through to get here. He took off his outer garments and sat down in the chair Polly had indicated to him.

She sat down next to him and smiled at him. “I'm so pleased you changed your mind about this.”

“Er, I haven't, actually,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “They didn't tell me what was going on.”

Polly looked at her daughter reproachfully. “Pansy...”

“So we kidnapped Harry, he'll get over it. It'll work out for everyone in the end,” Pansy said unrepentantly.

“Haven't I taught you that sources will be more forthcoming if you treat them nicely?” Polly asked.

Pansy looked down at her lap. “Yes, Mum.”

Harry shared an amazed look with Hermione; he'd never heard Pansy sound so chastened before.

“Harry, allow me to fill you in on what my daughter has neglected to tell you,” Polly said. She uncorked a bottle of Butterbeer and took a swig. “I'm not here for a story on your adoption – though I would like to ask you a few questions about that. No, I want the full story, in your own words, of what happened to you last June.”

“You do?” Harry asked.

“Oh, yes,” Polly said, leaning forward eagerly. “I won't lie to you, when Pansy came home from Hogwarts this summer, I didn't believe your story. But she never wavered in her belief, which made me reconsider, because my Pansy's pretty good at sniffing out a fake lead.”

At this, Pansy preened and helped herself to a mini meringue. Hermione rolled her eyes.

“And then, of course, she wrote to tell me all about her stunt with the Veritaserum. So, while I really don't want to believe that You-Know-Who is back, I'm inclined to believe you,” Polly said.

“Thanks,” Harry said in surprise.

Polly grinned. “And of course, if you're lying or delusional, I can spin that story for quite a few issues.”

“But you won't be,” Hermione cut in. “Harry's telling the truth.”

Polly waved an airy hand. “Either way, this interview is going to be _fabulous_ for sales. So do we have a deal?”

Harry looked from Polly, who was stretching out a hand for him to shake it, to Pansy and Hermione, both of whom were nodding encouragingly. He held out his own hand.

“We've got a deal.”

********

  
Harry felt a bit guilty on his way to Severus' quarters for dinner the following evening. While Severus had never forbidden him from rebelling against Umbridge or the Ministry, he'd also told him to be more subtle about it. Somehow, Harry doubted that giving an interview to the editor of _Witch Weekly_ was at all subtle.

Polly had assured him that his interview would be published in the next week's issue, which came out on the first Monday of December. Christmas holidays wouldn't have started yet, so Polly promised to send a few copies of the magazine to Pansy at Hogwarts to hand out to students, but they weren't the intended audience. Most of Polly's readership was comprised of adult women, who unless they had children at Hogwarts, probably wouldn't have heard about the Veritaserum stunt.

“This will get your story out to a whole new audience,” Polly had told him enthusiastically at the end of the interview.

Which was great – exactly what he wanted, in fact – but Harry couldn't shake the feeling that Umbridge would find a way to take this out on Severus. Still, what could she do? Severus had passed his inspection – he'd shown his results to Harry – and besides, what Harry got up to in Hogsmeade had no bearing upon his teaching performance. Right?

“You're oddly quiet this evening,” Severus remarked once they'd finished dinner.

Harry looked up from his empty plate. “I'm just tired, I guess. This term has been pretty busy. I'm looking forward to the castle quietening down over Christmas.”

“That's a shame,” Severus said.

“What do you mean?” asked Harry.

“You won't be here over the holidays. You'll be going home with Draco,” said Severus.

“I will?” Harry asked in delight.

“I arranged it with Narcissa. She'll be picking you both up from King's Cross.”

“Brilliant,” Harry said, then his grin faded. “Wait, so you won't be there? I won't see you on Christmas or Boxing Day?”

“As Head of Slytherin, I'll be remaining here for the first few days of the break but I shall join you at the Manor Christmas morning, and we'll go home on Boxing Day. I'll need to return here a few days before school begins again. You may either return to the Manor or come here with me, as you wish,” Severus explained. “I trust you have no problem with this plan?”

Harry's smiled returned. “Sounds good to me.”

“Very well,” Severus inclined his head. “Go into the lounge and prepare for Occlumency.”

Harry sat down on the couch, leaning over to scoop up Ladon from the floor when he slithered over from the fireplace.

“ _More Occlumency?_ ” Ladon asked.

“ _Yeah. He's going to use Legilimency on me again_ ,” Harry said.

Ladon wound around Harry's arm (he'd gotten too big to curl around his wrist) and rubbed his head against Harry's shoulder. “ _I'll stay with you_.”

“ _Thanks, but I'm not scared_ ,” Harry said.

Ladon flicked his tongue out. “ _You don't smell very happy_.”

Harry considered telling Ladon his smelling people thing was a bit weird from a human's perspective, but decided against it. Ladon been getting more confident as he grew older, but he was still quite sensitive to criticism. More to the point, he wasn't entirely wrong in this case. Harry eyed the bottle of pain reliever sitting on the tea tray that Severus had just put down on the coffee table.

Severus sat down on the other end of the couch and sighed. “Kindly tell Ladon I'm not about to disembowel you.”

Harry turned his head to see Ladon glaring at Severus. “ _He's not going to hurt me on purpose, Ladon. It's just part of learning Occlumency_.”

Ladon didn't say anything, just lowered his head to rest on Harry's shoulder, though he continued to watch Severus, who rolled his eyes.

“Good enough. Alright, clear your mind and bring up your shield.”

Harry cleared his mind while he reached out to grab his tea cup. He took a sip and set it back down on the coffee table, then focused on his shield. He shut his eyes to do so, and was presently immersed in the sensations of flying through a blank, sunny, cloudless sky. He took a moment to tighten his grip on his broom handle, then opened his eyes. 

He didn't think he'd ever get used to this part of Occlumency. Even with his eyes open, he could still see and feel and hear himself flying, but it was all overlaid what he knew to be reality: the feel of Ladon coiled around him, the scent of hot tea, and Severus' dark eyes watching him closely.

“I'm ready,” he said.

Severus leaned forward slightly. “ _Legilimens_.”

Unlike last time, Harry felt another presence in his mind almost instantly. He looked around the expanse of sky and couldn't see Severus anywhere, but he knew he was there inside his mind. He felt _wrong_. Not that Severus' presence was frightening – it wasn't quite like that – he even felt familiar and vaguely safe to Harry. But that didn't change the fact that he was an external force inside Harry's mind, and everything in him wanted to get as far away from him as possible.

He fell into a steep dive, picking up speed the further he fell, though he could also feel his body sitting stationary on the couch. He could feel Severus behind him, gaining on him, and changed direction abruptly, yanking his broom sharply to the right. Again, Severus followed him, and despite Harry's ducking and weaving, he caught up to him after about a minute. He was instantly plunged into his memory of the party following the Quidditch match, of watching the fireworks spark around the common room, before Severus pulled out and Harry was fully returned to reality.

“That was a very good attempt,” Severus said, sitting back and drinking some tea.

“You still caught me, though,” Harry argued, reaching for his own tea and rubbing his head.

“It took me longer than last time,” Severus told him, then narrowed his eyes. “Where did you get the fireworks from?”

Harry sighed; he'd hoped Severus wouldn't have followed up on that. “The Weasley twins.”

“Why did they provide you with fireworks?” asked Severus.

“They're starting up a joke shop and I'm their financial backer,” Harry said miserably. “I gave them my Triwizard Tournament winnings, and part of the deal is that I get free samples of their products.”

Severus raised an eyebrow. “I see.”

“You're not cross with me, are you?” Harry asked.

“Not necessarily,” Severus said slowly. “Have you told me the truth?”

“I've answered all your questions honestly,” Harry said carefully.

“But you have not offered any additional information,” Severus guessed.

“No,” Harry said, then ran a hand through his hair. “Look, I'm not going to lie to you if you ask, but I don't want to dob in my friends, either.”

“You are in an unenviable position in this regard. I certainly don't want you to become a pariah due to our relationship...” Severus mused. “Very well. I will not ask you anything unless this joke shop of theirs disrupts my own life.”

“They've promised not to do anything in your classroom,” Harry said quickly.

Severus nodded. “Then I believe I shall leave matters alone. So. Back to Occlumency.”

Harry gave him a grateful smile before clearing his mind and bringing up his shield again. Once again, he quickly found himself having to dodge away from Severus' relentless pursuit of his mental self, before again getting captured. He was briefly dragged into a memory of sitting in the oak tree at home, talking with Ladon, before Severus broke their connection.

“Do your aerial acrobatics cause you nausea?” Severus asked a little weakly.

“No,” Harry said. “Why, are you feeling sick?”

“Somewhat,” Severus admitted, taking a large, fortifying swallow of tea. “It would appear that you chose incredibly well with your mental shield. I was on the verge of pulling out of your mind completely after a few minutes following you through the air.”

“That's good, though, right?” Harry asked eagerly.

“Not for my stomach while I teach you how to properly Occlude, but for your defence, yes,” said Severus. “Again. This time I want you to employ every evasive manoeuvre you possess.”

Harry wrinkled his nose. “What, and have you throw up all over me? No, thanks.”

“I'll do no such thing,” Severus said with a scowl.

Harry eyed him suspiciously before nodding and doing as he was told. This time, he didn't wait to feel Severus enter his mind to start ducking: as soon as his shield was up, Harry banked hard to the left then dropped into a steep, almost vertical dive.

The strategy paid off. It was a few minutes before he even felt Severus' presence. He waited for Severus to catch up to him a little more before pulling up sharply on his broom, flipping up and over and shooting back the way he'd come. He flew past a startled Severus and grinned at his expression, then took a sharp right before Severus had even turned around. It took him another few minutes to catch up to Harry again, and when he did, Harry once again managed to slip past him. For the first time, he found himself enjoying Occlumency. This was rather what a Snitch must feel like, he thought. No wonder they didn't want to be caught. This was fun.

Even so, Severus inevitably caught up to him. Harry was immediately immersed in his memory of the day before, of Polly's relentless questioning over endless cups of tea and bottles of Butterbeer. Harry swore silently: this had _not_ been how he'd wanted to tell Severus about the interview. To make matters worse, Severus seemed to want to linger in this memory. Harry spent more time watching and listening to his memory self talking to Polly than he had in the past two memories combined. It was only when Pansy held up a tray of nibbles to him that he felt himself get yanked out of the memory.

Severus didn't say anything at first, merely sipped his tea very slowly. Harry watched him guiltily over his own cup, wondering if Severus was about to explode over the interview, or if he was feeling sick over Harry's increasingly erratic flying.

“We'll leave it there for tonight,” Severus eventually said, refilling his cup. “When you practise bringing up your shield, continue this new tactic. It is most efficient.”

“Efficient because I kept you out for longer, or because you've turned green?” asked Harry.

“Both,” Severus said with a grimace. He drained half of his fresh cup of tea then lowered it to give Harry a piercing look. “That was an exceedingly interesting scene. When did it take place? It felt recent.”

“Yesterday,” Harry admitted.

“You told Mrs Parkinson the entire story of the Dark Lord's return?” Severus continued.

“Yeah. I thought about telling you, but then I thought it might be best if you didn't know, so when Umbridge finds out she can't blame you for it,” Harry said.

“Am I right in assuming that this is the result of Pansy and Hermione's plotting?” asked Severus.

“Yeah. They didn't tell me what they were up to, but I could've left the Three Broomsticks if I'd wanted to once I saw Polly waiting for me. You can't take this out on them,” Harry said defensively.

“I had no intention of doing so,” Severus said wearily. 

Harry watched him silently, stroking Ladon's head while he waited for Severus to think. Now that Harry was paying attention to him, Ladon relaxed and fell into a doze on Harry's shoulder.

“Since I now know, I can play this one of two ways,” Severus eventually said. “Umbridge will find out about your involvement once the article is published, so I will have to either admit to having forewarning of the article's contents, or deny all knowledge.”

“Deny it,” Harry said at once.

Severus held up a hand. “I knew you'd say that. The problem is that if I do that, it leaves you to take the full brunt of her anger. Unless Pansy turns her in, Hermione will be able to deny all involvement, and Pansy herself could just claim she'd only meant to bring you to lunch with her mother.”

“So I'll cop it all,” Harry said.

“Don't be so hasty -”

“It's the best option we have,” Harry interrupted. “If you admit to knowing, it could cost you your job. Both Hermione and Pansy can deny everything. Umbridge already hates me so I won't have an out, but there's no need for either of the girls to go down with me.”

Severus frowned at him. “That's all very noble, Harry, but you should take some time to think this through.”

Harry shrugged. “I don't need to. She's going to go after me no matter how we play it; why endanger any of the rest of you?”

“I don't like it,” Severus said.

“What's she going to do?” Harry asked. “What would _you_ do if another student had done this? What school rule have I actually broken?”

“None,” Severus admitted, “though she won't let that stop her... If I were in her position, I would give you detention and dock house points, maybe ban you from future Hogsmeade visits... It certainly doesn't warrant expulsion or even suspension...”

“So that's what we'll do, then,” Harry said firmly.

“I'll consider it,” Severus said.

“But Dad -”

“Save it, Harry,” Severus said sharply. “I shall consider it. Speak to Hermione and Pansy; like you said, there's no reason either of them need take any blame for this. But I'm not convinced that allowing you to take full responsibility is the best course of action.”

Harry met Severus' dark eyes and nodded at his unwavering gaze. He could always argue this later, if it came down to it.


	20. In Which the Order of the Phoenix Loses its First Member

Harry spent the next week trying to think of arguments as to why Severus should deny all knowledge of Harry's activities if Umbridge asked. Unfortunately for him, he hadn't come up with anything he thought would convince Severus by the time Umbridge found out about his interview. 

Despite his worry over Severus, Harry couldn't resist sending Sirius a short note telling him to buy the next issue of _Witch Weekly_.

Hedwig returned during breakfast on Monday, with the rest of the post owls. Thoth arrived too, with a letter for Draco.

“You got good news for me, girl?” Harry asked Hedwig, cutting up a sausage for her.

She swallowed the piece of sausage he held out to her, nipped his finger, then flew up onto his shoulder. Harry met her amber gaze then opened the slip of paper she'd delivered.

 _Dear Harry,_  
_I was pretty confused when you told me to buy_ Witch Weekly, _since I'm a fan of neither knitting nor Celestina Warbeck, but I've just read the interview you gave to Narcissa's friend and it all makes sense now. I couldn't be more proud of you! Don't let the Ministry get you down. You've got my full support, as ever, and Remus wants me to pass on his own congratulations._

_I'm not sure what the general reaction will be – Narcissa's friend sent her an advance copy of her magazine, and she brought it over to Remus and I late last night so we could read it before everyone else. It goes on sale this morning, so I'll go out to Diagon Alley later today and see what people are saying. I'll tell you all about it when I see you over Christmas._

_Keep giving the Ministry hell, Harry. It's what your dad would've done._  
_Love,_  
_Sirius_

“No backing out now,” Harry said with a nervous grin at Pansy.

She glanced up from her own post with a wink. “No, there isn't,” she said, and chucked him a copy of the magazine. 

Harry caught it and looked down at his own face staring resolutely back at him from under the headline _HARRY POTTER'S STORY IN HIS OWN WORDS: A_ WITCH WEEKLY _EXCLUSIVE_. Polly had taken a picture of him at the end of the interview. Unlike all the photos of him that had appeared in the _Daily Prophet_ , he actually looked alright in this one. Nervous, true, but calm, and not at all like an attention-seeking liar... he hoped.

He flipped through to his interview and read it with Draco and Millicent leaning over his shoulders. His stomach was churning at the beginning, but he soon relaxed when he saw that Polly hadn't twisted his words like Skeeter always had. She'd just taken his answers and fitted them into a coherent narrative that told the events of that night in June. 

At the end of his story there was a short editorial by Polly, stating that she fully believed Harry's side of the story, and not just because he was friends with her daughter. She finished by calling on the Ministry to provide the public with answers to some gaping holes in their official version of events, and for them to launch an investigation into how two Dementors came to be in Little Whinging.

“This is bloody fantastic,” Millicent said, grinning at Harry before turning to Pansy. “And you set the whole thing up!”

“Yep,” Pansy said, smiling proudly. “Well, Hermione helped me a _little_ , but it was mostly me.”

Harry turned his back on Millicent, who looked like she was about to start snogging Pansy over the porridge bowl. “Is your mum going to get into trouble over the Dementor thing?” he asked Draco. “I mean, she did blackmail Fudge to make it go away...”

“I doubt it,” Draco said airily, opening his letter. “He'd have to admit to taking a bribe if he tried to move against her. Besides,” he lowered his voice, “she could always bribe her way out of any legal trouble. If my father could bribe his way out of Azkaban for being a fucking Death Eater, I think Mother could manage this. She's far smarter than him, and through Gemma, she's got an in with the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.”

Harry nodded, pleased. “So it's just me, and maybe Dad.”

He looked up at the staff table. Everything appeared normal. Severus seemed to be having a debate with McGonagall and Sinistra; Dumbledore was chatting merrily with Flitwick; and at the far end of the table, Umbridge was peering over her teacup at the students below. Harry quickly went back to his breakfast when she began to turn towards the Slytherin table.

Draco waved his letter at him. “This is from Mother. She and Kingsley want me to tell you that they've read the interview. They both love it.”

“Tell them thanks from me.”

“Will do.”

After breakfast Harry waited with Daphne in the Entrance Hall while Pansy dashed over to the Ravenclaw table to talk to Elizabeth.

“What took you so long?” Daphne asked impatiently when Pansy finally joined them to head up to Divination.

“I gave Elizabeth a few copies of _Witch_ that Mum sent me, so that she can hand them out to people in the other years,” Pansy said quietly. “There's no real point keeping any for us Slytherins, since we heard Harry's Veritaserum confession, and as Head Girl, Elizabeth won't arouse suspicion talking to a bunch of people from the other Houses.”

“Good thinking,” Harry said, impressed. 

“I know,” Pansy said smugly.

Pansy spent Divination entertaining herself and Harry by pretending to have had a very graphic dream about Adrian, mostly, Harry suspected, to get back at Daphne for winning their bet. He had to admit watching Daphne turn a range of different shades of pink over the course of the lesson was a great way to forget that Umbridge was going to be coming down on him sometime in the near future.

She was waiting for him in the Entrance Hall after lunch, a copy of _Witch Weekly_ clutched to her chest.

“I'd like a word with you, Mr Potter,” she called out.

Harry came to a stop in front of her. He was flanked on either side by Draco and Blaise, with Pansy, Millicent and Daphne right behind them.

“Yes, Professor?” he asked.

“The rest of you may run along to class,” Umbridge said, then held up a hand. “Except for you, Miss Parkinson.”

Their friends slowly walked around Umbridge to the front door, leaving Harry and Pansy to face her alone.

“What is this?” Umbridge asked, flipping the magazine around to display the cover.

“The best-selling women's magazine in wizarding Britain,” Pansy said promptly.

“Edited by your mother, I believe.”

“Yes, Professor.”

“So it was your idea to run this story? You asked your mother to interview Mr Potter and reprint his lies?” Umbridge said, gesturing disdainfully at the cover.

“No, it was my idea,” Harry cut in.

Umbridge's eyes gleamed with satisfaction. “Your idea, Mr Potter?”

“Yes. Pansy was meeting her mum in Hogsmeade, and I decided to tag along with her and see if she'd interview me,” Harry said.

“You knew nothing of this beforehand, Miss Parkinson?” Umbridge asked.

“No, Professor,” Pansy said.

“I see. Hand over the copies you undoubtedly have on you,” Umbridge ordered.

Harry and Pansy looked at each other. “We don't have any, Professor,” Harry said truthfully.

“I don't believe you. Turn out your pockets and empty your bags this instant,” Umbridge said.

They did so, revealing a multitude of school books, notes, quills, ink pots, coins, and in Pansy's case, a large number of pink lipsticks. Umbridge sifted through the messy pile and looked up sourly. 

“Very well, you may go, Miss Parkinson. As for you, Mr Potter,” Umbridge said, smiling widely, while Pansy stuffed her things back into her bag and took off, “you are henceforth banned from all future Hogsmeade visits. You will have detention every night for the rest of the week, beginning at seven o'clock tonight, and, let's see... I think fifty points from Slytherin.”

“Yes, Professor,” Harry said. He shifted his grip on his bag strap and made to walk around her.

“Oh, and Mr Potter, did Professor Snape happen to know about this interview in advance?” Umbridge asked.

“No, Professor,” Harry lied. “I only told him about it yesterday, when it was too late for him to do anything about it.”

“I see,” Umbridge said. “Seven o'clock, Mr Potter. Don't be late.”

Harry watched her walk up the main staircase, thinking fast, then bolted for the dungeons. Hagrid wouldn't mind if he was a few minutes late for class, and he needed to tell Severus what he'd just told Umbridge.

********

  
By the time Harry returned to the castle after Care of Magical Creatures, Umbridge had passed yet another decree. He stopped in the Entrance Hall to read it with the rest of the class. 

  
_BY ORDER OF THE HIGH INQUISITOR OF HOGWARTS_  


  
_Any student found to be in possession of the publication_  
Witch Weekly  
_will be expelled immediately._  


  
_Students are encouraged to inform the_  
_Hogwarts High Inquisitor_  
_if they see other students with this publication._  


  
_All future copies of this publication are banned from Hogwarts._  


  
_The above is in accordance with Educational Decree Number Twenty-Six_  
_Signed: Dolores Jane Umbridge, High Inquisitor_  


“Well, fuck,” Draco said, looking up at the giant sign.

“Pretty much,” Harry agreed.

Hermione laughed. “Are you kidding? This is the best thing she could have done. Everyone here will want to read it now. This woman clearly doesn't understand a single thing about how teenagers operate.”

“And it does nothing to prevent sales to the actual target readership. In fact, if I write to Mum to tell her that this issue got banned, she can probably advertise that fact to sell even more copies,” Pansy added.

Harry didn't know if Pansy was right, but Hermione certainly was. He never actually saw anyone holding the magazine – and neither did Umbridge. She spent the day stalking the castle, demanding students turn out their bags and pockets, but the students had anticipated that. Some charmed their magazine to look like homework if read by a teacher; others charmed their copy to look like blank parchment. The magazines were passed around the entire student body without Umbridge ever catching a glimpse.

At precisely seven o'clock that night Harry knocked on Umbridge's office door. 

“Come in,” she called.

Harry slouched through the door and sat down at his usual seat, automatically clearing his mind. Once again, there was a thin leather folder and a stack of parchment on the table. 

“You'll be copying out some more articles this evening, Mr Potter,” Umbridge said sweetly.

“Yes, Professor,” Harry sighed.

He bent down to get a quill and some ink, set them on the desk, opened up the folder, and stopped breathing. 

_BRUTAL DOUBLE MURDER IN GODRIC'S HOLLOW_ screamed the first headline. Below it was a picture of what he knew to be the home he'd once lived in, for far too short a time, with his birth parents. He took a breath, halfway between a gulp and a sob as he stared at the photo. The wreckage of the house still had clouds of dust lingering in the air. Further down the page was a picture of Lily and James when they were still at school; they were wearing old-fashioned Gryffindor robes and had shiny Head Girl and Boy badges pinned to their chests. Harry's eyes blurred with tears as he stared down at their beaming faces.

“Is something the matter, Mr Potter?” Umbridge asked in a sugary voice.

Harry didn't raise his head. He didn't need to; he could visualise the gloating smirk that was surely stretched across her face. “No, Professor,” he said.

“You'd best get started, in that case. You won't be leaving this office until you've copied out every article in that folder.”

Harry bit his lip and began writing. Had he really found it hard to read and copy out the articles that painted him as a liar? It seemed laughable now. Harry's hand shook as he dutifully wrote out line after line from fourteen year old _Daily Prophets_. 

He read the statements given by the Aurors who had been the first on the scene (not entirely, Harry thought, thinking of Sirius and Hagrid), who'd had to sift through the rubble to find the bodies of Lily and James. He read about neighbours hearing screaming in the middle of the night and thinking it must have just been teenagers playing pranks on Halloween, until the explosion occurred. He read about confused Muggles hearing a baby screaming without pause in a cottage they'd never noticed before, but before they could call the police to investigate, they'd heard the sound of a motorbike and the crying cut off abruptly. There were interviews with neighbours and old friends who spoke about how tragic his parents' deaths were, and how sorry they felt for the newly orphaned Harry.

It took all the strength Harry had not to start crying again as he was forced to write all of this out. He retreated into his Occlumency, but even so, he was soon fighting a constant battle against the tears that prickled his eyes as he read about the immediate aftermath of his parents' deaths.

He was so relieved when he'd finally finished and laid down his quill that he spent god knows how long just staring blackly down at his parchment before Umbridge noticed he'd stopped writing.

“All done?”

“Yes, Professor,” Harry said dully.

“Good. I'll see you back here the same time tomorrow.”

Harry blindly swept his quill and ink into his bag, not caring if the ink pot opened onto his possessions, and fled the office. He raced down to the dungeons, barely even registering Peeves calling out something at him as he rushed by the poltergeist. He slowed down somewhat when he reached the entrance to the common room, but swore at it in Parseltongue, too upset to try to remember the password.

There were a few people still sitting around and he heard someone call out his name, but as he didn't see anyone with white-blonde hair, he just kept walking.

He nearly walked into Greg, who was talking to Vince right inside the door to the dorm. He muttered an apology, not waiting to see if either boy responded, and kept moving. He finally stopped outside Draco's curtained bed. 

“Draco?”

The curtain was yanked back and Draco grinned up at him. “About time you got back.”

Harry took one look at Draco's cheerful face and all but fell onto the bed. Draco pulled the bed curtain closed in alarm.

“ _What's wrong? What did she do to you?_ ”

Harry didn't say anything. Instead, he just lunged forward and wrapped his arms around Draco's waist, rested his head on one thigh, and stopped Occluding. He felt a hand descend on his hair, but Draco stayed silent, for which Harry was grateful. He didn't think he could trust his voice right now.

********

  
Four days later Harry walked into his dorm after finishing his last detention and collapsed onto his bed. Draco got up from his own bed and joined him, carrying Ladon with him. The boomslang slithered out of Draco's hands and wound himself around Harry's neck.

“ _Is it over?_ ” he asked.

“ _Yeah, no more detentions_ ,” Harry hissed gratefully.

“ _What'd she have you read tonight?_ ” Draco asked.

“ _Sort of a greatest hits of the week_ ,” Harry said, shutting his eyes.

After the first detention, Umbridge had branched out a bit. For the second detention, she'd supplied articles about Sirius' supposed murders and his subsequent incarceration, complete with detailed descriptions of the horrors to be found at Azkaban; for the third, she'd managed to unearth the Muggle newspapers that covered his parents' murders. 

“ _I still can't believe she's allowed to do that_ ,” Draco said scathingly.

“ _Dad double-checked the rules_ ," Harry said wearily.

“ _I can bite her for you if you like_ ,” Ladon offered.

“ _What, so you can get into trouble as well? Thanks, but no. I just want to forget the entire thing_ ,” Harry said. “ _Anyway, I still have some of that fan mail left_.”

Harry had been receiving letters all week from _Witch Weekly_ readers. While some of them still didn't believe him, many did, and he found that reading the supportive stories helped him forget some of the demoralising things Umbridge had him copy out.

Ladon shifted, getting ready to sleep on Harry's shoulder. “ _If you change your mind just say the word_.”

********

  
The one good thing about Umbridge's latest form of punishment was that it completely erased Severus' anger over Harry taking the full blame for the interview. He'd even told Harry about how Burbage had passed around her copy of _Witch Weekly_ to the rest of the staff (Umbridge excepted, naturally). That night, they'd all toasted Harry and Pansy in the staff room, and the next morning, the Slytherin hour glass held fifty more points than it had the day before. Umbridge couldn't say anything; her last decree had only banned the students from reading the magazine, not the staff.

Despite having numerous friends urge him to seek revenge, Harry kept his head down for the rest of term, determined to deprive Umbridge of any excuse to punish him again. Running the DA helped him resist the idea of vengeance. He was working against her in a real, tangible way, even if she was unaware of it.

They had their last meeting for the term on the last Tuesday before the winter holidays. Harry didn't want to start Patronuses just before a three week break, so they used the time to go over what they'd learnt so far. He'd walked around the room, unable to stop grinning proudly when he watched everyone practise. The improvements they'd all made were remarkable, and he told them as much at the end of the meeting. 

With no more DA lessons to plan for nearly a month and most classes winding down for the term, Harry's thoughts turned to Christmas. It felt odd to be leaving Hogwarts for the holiday, but he was also excited to be spending the time at the Manor. From what Draco had told him, the Malfoy house-elves went all out with decorating the house and feeding its inhabitants endless amounts of delicious holiday treats. Harry couldn't wait.

He'd managed to do all of his Christmas shopping in Hogsmeade after being interviewed by Polly, so now he only had Severus' birthday present to buy. He had no idea what to get him, but Draco had suggested he ask Narcissa for help, so he wasn't too fussed.

Harry's good mood was shattered on Thursday morning when he arrived in the Great Hall for breakfast. He sat down next to Draco and looked at the girls across the table in alarm. 

“Scarlett, what's wrong?” he asked.

Scarlett didn't reply: she was too busy crying to form words. Sitting next to her was a teary-eyed Archie, who had her arm around Scarlett's shoulders and was clearly in the middle of comforting her. 

“It's Ginny's dad,” Archie said shakily.

“What's Ginny's dad?” Harry asked apprehensively.

“He's – he's died,” Archie said, swallowing hard.

Harry stared at her in shock. “What?”

“Are you sure?” asked Draco.

“Here,” Archie said, pushing a copy of the _Daily Prophet_ across the table to them.

Harry flipped the paper around to read it.

_MINISTRY EMPLOYEE DIES IN TRAGIC ACCIDENT_  
_Arthur Weasley was this morning found dead in his home in Devon. Mr Weasley, 55, was the Head of the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office. His wife, Molly, found his body in their garden shed in the early hours of the morning. Healers called to the scene from St Mungo's could do nothing to revive Mr Weasley, who had by then been dead for over an hour. Exact cause of death is unknown, but the deceased had a number of Muggle artefacts in his shed, and it is suspected that one of them may be behind the accident. The body has remained at the Weasley family home in preparation for a private funeral. Mr Weasley is survived by his wife and their seven children._

Neither boy said anything for a minute. Draco leaned down the table to pull a teapot towards himself and began making a cup of tea. Harry watched Archie murmuring soothingly to Scarlett, whose sobs had subsided a bit, before an idea struck him.

“It might not be true. Since when does the _Prophet_ get anything right?”

Scarlett pointed behind Harry. “N-none of the Weasleys are at the Gryffindor t-table,” she hiccoughed. 

“And McGonagall and Dumbledore aren't at the staff table, either,” Archie added. “What are the chances that all four Weasleys, their Head of House _and_ the Headmaster are absent on the day Mr Weasley's reported as dead, if it isn't true?”

Harry and Draco both looked up at the staff table, where McGonagall and Dumbledore were indeed missing.

“Slim to none,” Draco admitted, turning his attention back to his teapot.

Harry's gaze lingered on the staff table a few seconds longer. He'd gone to catch Severus' eye, only to find him missing as well. Frowning, he scanned the staff table from one end to the other, and saw that Hagrid was also missing. So none of the teachers in the Order were present, he mused. He pressed his lips together and twisted back to his own table.

“Here, drink this,” Draco said, holding out his cup of tea to Scarlett.

She took the cup with trembling hands, blew on it, took a tentative sip and gave Draco a watery smile. “Thanks.”

“You're welcome,” Draco said, beginning to make himself a cup.

“I just don't understand,” Scarlett said in a small, plaintive voice. “Mr Weasley's shown me that shed – it's where he keeps his plug collection. How could something in there have hurt him?”

Three sets of eyes looked at Harry. “Well, Muggle technology is mostly electrical, maybe he got electrocuted?” he said half-heartedly. “That'd fit with the Healer not knowing how he died, wouldn't it?”

Fresh tears trickled down Scarlett's cheeks. “Like one of his batteries?”

“Er, yeah,” Harry said. “Are you going to be okay?”

Scarlett nodded. “Yeah. I just... I liked him. He was always nice to me, you know? Whenever I went to Ginny's, he'd show me the latest Muggle thing he'd gotten, and he would always let me try it out... And poor Ginny...”

********

  
When Harry took his seat in Potions later that day, he noticed Severus looking tired and drawn, confirming his suspicions. He didn't get a chance to say anything during class, so when the bell for lunch rang, Harry told Draco and Hermione that he'd catch up to them, then hung back for the rest of the class to leave.

“What really happened?” he asked once it was just him and Severus left in the room.

Severus flicked his wand at the door, slamming it shut, then sat down heavily and ran a hand over his face. “Sit down.”

Fifteen minutes later a shaken Harry walked out into the corridor, where Hermione and Draco were waiting for him, a sack of food from the kitchens clutched in the former's hand.

“I had a feeling you'd be wanting to talk in private,” Hermione explained.

Harry nodded. “Yeah,” he said quietly.

Draco frowned at him in concern and took his hand, before following Hermione out of the dungeons. Since it was too cold and snowy to go outside to the lake, they walked up to an empty classroom on the first floor to eat their lunch.

“What's wrong?” Draco asked, once they were all settled on the floor around the food. 

“Dad told me what really happened to Mr Weasley,” Harry said, searching through the food for something – anything – with chocolate in it.

“What do you mean?” asked Draco.

“I mean that story in the _Prophet_ was a cover up. There was no accident. He was murdered.”

“Murdered?” Hermione gasped, at the same time Draco asked, “Why?”

“He was at the Ministry, guarding the prophecy. The Order thinks Voldemort must've sent Nagini there, and she attacked Mr Weasley. He bled to death there. Alone.”

Hermione had covered her mouth with her hand. “That's horrible.”

Harry finally found a piece of chocolate slice and gratefully took a bite. “He was found by Kingsley, when he arrived to take over guard duty. He sent a message off to Dumbledore and transfigured the body into some parchment so that he could move him easily, and then went to the Weasleys' house to tell Mrs Weasley what happened.”

“Poor Kingsley,” said Draco. When the other two both stared at him, he blushed faintly. “Don't look at me like that. Obviously I feel sorry for Mr Weasley, but can you imagine having to tell someone their husband's died?”

“And his son. Bill was there, too,” Harry said.

“So then what happened?” asked Hermione.

“Kingsley took the body to the garden shed to make it look like an accident. He noticed some venom in the wounds, so he sent another message to Dumbledore, who woke up Dad to get him to collect it if he could,” said Harry.

“Snape had to go collect venom from the body? Why?” Draco asked.

“So he can make an anti-venom for it. General anti-venom isn't as effective as one tailored to a specific snake's venom, and Dumbledore figured since Voldemort has used Nagini to attack once, he might do it again,” Harry explained. “After Dad'd gotten the venom and left, Mrs Weasley contacted St Mungo's. Kingsley left before the Healer could arrive, and once the Healer had gone, Mrs Weasley and Bill Flooed to Dumbledore's office to break the news to the other Weasleys and take them home early.”

There was a silence after this, as Draco and Hermione processed what Harry had just told them. While they were contemplating that, Harry snagged another piece of chocolate slice.

“Are you alright?” Draco eventually asked.

“Me? Yeah, why?” asked Harry.

“You seemed quite upset when you left the Potions classroom,” said Draco.

“Oh, yeah, well, Dad was kinda messed up,” Harry said. “He got woken up in the middle of the night and told to go get venom out of the body of someone who'd been his – well, friend isn't the right word... His colleague, I guess. And then he spent the rest of the night brewing anti-venom before having to come teach all day.”

Draco nodded. “In that case, I'll leave you two alone. I'd like to write to Mother.”

“Don't mention anything -”

Draco glared at Harry. “I won't mention specifics, Potter, I'm not an idiot. Of course I'm aware our mail could fall into the wrong hands. I just want to see if Kingsley's alright. And Mother. She liked Mr Weasley.”

He leaned forward, picked up a pastry and left the room. 

Hermione immediately turned to Harry. “That was a lie. Something else has upset you.”

Harry opened his mouth to argue but snapped it shut again when he saw the determined, knowing expression on Hermione's face. “Yeah, okay, you got me,” he sighed.

“What is it? Did something else happen that you haven't told us about?”

Harry shook his head. “No, it's not that... It's just... This is all my fault.”

Hermione's brow crinkled. “Your fault? How is any of this your fault?”

“Mr Weasley was guarding the prophecy about me when he was killed. If it wasn't for me, he never would've been there,” Harry said miserably.

“Oh, Harry,” Hermione whispered. 

She scooted over and wrapped her arms around him. Harry put an arm around her waist and rested his head on her shoulder.

“Ginny's dad's dead because of me,” he mumbled.

“Nonsense,” Hermione said gently. 

“He was guarding the prophecy about _me_ ,” Harry repeated.

“You didn't send Nagini in to the Ministry. That was Voldemort. It all comes back to him,” Hermione said.

“That's what Dad said,” Harry said.

“Well, we're probably right, then, aren't we?” Hermione asked.

“No. If it wasn't for me, Mr Weasley would still be alive.”

“You can't know that. But if we're talking what ifs – if there was no prophecy, Voldemort might have been in power for the last fourteen years. Who knows how many people he could have killed in that time?” asked Hermione.

“Okay, now you really sound like Dad,” Harry said. 

“Did he also tell you that Mr Weasley was an adult who must have known the dangers when he joined the Order?”

Harry lifted his head so he could see her face. “Now you're starting to scare me.”

Hermione smiled sadly. “What happened to Mr Weasley is awful, and I feel terrible for Ginny and her family, but it was not your fault, okay?”

“Okay,” Harry said.

He dropped his head back onto her shoulder. A second later she leant her head against his. They stayed like that until it was time for class. Harry spent the time thinking about what Hermione had just said, until he no longer felt guilty; with Hermione and Severus both telling him the same thing, they were likely correct.

“I'm glad we're friends,” Harry said, standing up and leaning down to give Hermione a hand up.

She took his hand and allowed him to pull her to her feet. “Me too.”

“Do me a favour? Don't tell Draco I lied to him,” said Harry.

Hermione snorted. “I'm not an idiot.”

********

  
Later that day, after dinner, Harry put down his sketchbook and stretched. “I'm bored. Anyone up for a game of poker? Chess?”

Unsurprisingly, neither Tracey nor Theo raised their heads from their Ancient Runes homework, but he was a little annoyed when Draco only spared him a fleeting smile. “ _I want to get this done while I still have these two around to help me. I'll make it up to you later_.”

“ _Fine_ ,” Harry grumbled.

He stood up and looked around the common room, which was livelier than usual given the impending holidays. Millicent and Pansy had disappeared into their dorm half an hour ago and hadn't returned; Daphne was sitting on Adrian's lap, chatting with Tabitha and Zubeida; and Blaise was missing, presumably somewhere up on the Astronomy Tower with Susan. With nothing else to do but start his holiday homework, Harry decided to go to the dorm and either hang out with Ladon if he was around, or have a wank if he wasn't.

He was half-way across the dorm when a sniffling sound caught his attention. He stopped and looked around the room. While he couldn't see anyone, Blaise's bed curtains were drawn shut, so he walked over. 

“Blaise?”

The sniffing stopped abruptly and a few seconds later the curtain was flung back. “What?” Blaise asked, not meeting his eye.

“Are you okay?” Harry asked.

“Yeah, fine. Why wouldn't I be?” asked Blaise.

“I, er, I thought I heard crying,” Harry said, running a hand through his hair.

“Not me,” Blaise said, scowling up at him.

Harry took one look at Blaise's red-rimmed eyes and sat down on the bed with him. “Something's obviously upset you. Is it Ginny's dad?”

“Of course not, I didn't know him,” Blaise said.

Harry didn't say anything, just waited for Blaise to start talking. All of a sudden he slumped down and looked at his hands in his lap.

“Hearing about him dying brought it all back, you know? Made me remember what it was like the day that Giovanni -” Blaise stopped talking and cleared his throat.

“I'm sorry,” Harry said, putting his arm around Blaise's shoulders. 

“How do you stand it? I mean, your parents – well, your birth parents, anyway...” Blaise asked awkwardly.

Harry gave a half-shrug. “I never really knew them.”

“Right,” Blaise said, looking far younger than usual.

Harry's eyes lit up when he had a sudden idea. “You know who'd be good to talk to? Luna.”

Blaise frowned. “What, Scarlett's weirdo friend?”

“She's not – okay, yeah, she's pretty weird, but she's also pretty smart. And her mum died a few years ago. She'd know what you're going through far better than me,” Harry said.

Blaise chewed on his lower lip. “She wouldn't mind me asking her? We haven't really spoken outside of the DA.”

“I doubt it. She's probably the most open-minded person I've ever met, and she often has good advice,” Harry said.

“I'll think about it, when we're back after Christmas,” Blaise said slowly.

“Cool,” Harry said.

Blaise twisted his hands. “Would you mind not telling anyone that I was – you know...”

“Oh, yeah, sure,” Harry said quickly.

“Thanks,” Blaise said with a grateful smile.

“Want to raid Draco's sweets stash?” Harry asked. “I know he's got some chocolate left.”

Blaise's smile widened. “Sounds good to me.”


	21. In Which Harry Finds he can Enjoy Christmas Even if He's not at Hogwarts

During the carriage ride down to Hogsmeade station, Harry watched the castle grow smaller through the window, only half listening to Draco pestering Hermione about Viktor. It was the first time, since beginning at Hogwarts, that Harry hadn't spent Christmas at the castle, and he was finding it a bit strange to be leaving the school in the middle of winter.

They shared a compartment on the Hogwarts Express with Neville, Millicent and Pansy. The ride flew by in a boisterous rush, and before Harry knew it they were at King's Cross. Given that there were some students who were staying at Hogwarts for the holidays, the platform was slightly less chaotic than usual, and Harry and Draco easily spotted Narcissa waiting for them by a pillar. 

“Have fun skiing and say hi to Viktor,” Harry said, hugging Hermione.

“Oh, I'm sure she'll say hi to him,” Draco snickered.

Hermione rolled her eyes and hugged him too. “Shut up, Malfoy, or your mum will overhear you.”

After saying a brief hello to Narcissa, Hermione walked through the barrier to meet her parents, while Narcissa shrank down the boys' belongings and held out her hands. She Apparated them to just outside the gates of Malfoy Manor, where it was drizzling steadily. They hurried up the driveway, past some ice sculptures by the side of the drive that Harry resolved to inspect later on.

“ _Ooh, that was fun_ ,” Ladon said.

Harry looked down at his snake, who was curled around his neck under his scarf. “ _You actually liked Apparition?_ ”

“ _Is Apparition that twisty thing we just did? Because if so, yes_ ,” Ladon said. He poked his head out of Harry's collar and flicked his tongue out rapidly.

“Your owls both arrived overnight. Harry, you'll need to keep your snake inside so that he doesn't get attacked by the peacocks,” Narcissa warned him.

“It's too cold for him out here anyway,” Harry assured her.

The front doors, each bearing a large Christmas wreath, swung open at their arrival, revealing a beaming Dobby dressed in what looked like another one of Narcissa's old dresses. It was gold and shimmery, and Harry imagined it would have once upon a time been quite elegant. Unfortunately, Dobby had chosen to pair it with his ubiquitous plastic sandals and the ladybug socks Harry had given him. Like last Christmas, he had a length of gold tinsel wrapped around his waist, and had also hung a white and gold Christmas bauble off each large, bat-like ear.

“Welcome home Miss Narcissa, Mr Draco and Harry Potter!” he said excitedly.

“Hi, Dobby,” Harry, trying not to gawk at Dobby's outfit. Neither Malfoy blinked an eye.

Narcissa ushered the boys inside. “Thank you, Dobby. We'll take tea in the lounge once the boys have freshened up.”

“We'll be right back,” Draco said, grasping Harry's hand.

Harry turned to go up the stairs and stopped when he noticed the decorations for the first time. The balustrades on the staircase were dripping with real icicles, which glittered in the light of the chandelier above. Beneath a multitude of candles, yet more icicles lined the base of the chandelier, refracting the candlelight into dazzling beams and seemingly filling the foyer with starlight. The bannisters all had silver ribbons tied around them, some with bells on them, others with delicate silver snowflakes. 

A thin layer of snow carpeted the stairs, glowing against the pale marble and somehow not melting despite the warmth in the room. There were two large, silver vases on either side of the staircase, filled with arrangements of white Christmas lilies and Humming Hellebore. The Hellebore was swaying gently in time as it hummed a song that instantly made Harry feel warm and relaxed.

There was a bright fire crackling in the fireplace, scenting the entire room with pine. The mantle was covered in an abundance of holly, ivy and mistletoe. Tiny cream and gold ribbons, the precise shades of the wallpaper, were tied amongst the branches. Glittery silver, white, and gold baubles and more candles were nestled amongst the greenery. The entire display was reflected in the mirror above the mantle.

“Come on,” Draco said impatiently, giving Harry a tug.

A few minutes later, Harry discovered that the decorations were even more elaborate in the lounge. The fireplace was decorated identically to the one in the foyer, but its greenery was overshadowed by the huge Christmas tree that soared all the way up to the ceiling, almost completely obscuring the windows from view. Silver tinsel was wound around it, almost unnoticeable under the decorations: miniature candles; ribbons and baubles in silver, gold, and cream; and glass figurines of snowflakes, stars, reindeer and bells. The entire thing was illuminated by minuscule, flickering lights that darted around the branches.

Harry walked over for a closer look. He couldn't help comparing it to the plastic tree Aunt Petunia got out every year.

“They're baby fairies,” Draco said, walking up next to him.

“Baby fairies?” Harry repeated.

“Yes. Can't you hear them?” asked Draco.

Now that he mentioned it, Harry could indeed hear something. It was barely discernible, and certainly quieter than the crackling of the fire, but he could now make out tiny, high-pitched voices.

“And they just hang around the tree all Christmas?” asked Harry.

Draco nodded. “They like the sap from the fir tree. They grow incredibly quickly, so by the time Christmas is over and the tree gets thrown out, the fairies are fully grown and big enough to go out into the wild.”

“Huh,” was all Harry could think to say to that.

He watched the fairies playing what looked like a game of follow the leader. They certainly didn't seem to mind being living decorations. He leaned even closer to watch them better, and noticed one ornament that very much didn't fit in with the main colour scheme.

“What's this?” he asked, reaching out to touch it.

“Nothing,” Draco said quickly, grabbing Harry's hand.

“It's not nothing,” Narcissa said from behind them. She walked around Draco and picked the ornament off the tree. “It's my favourite decoration. Draco made it when he was four.”

She held it out to Harry, who took it carefully. It was a garishly red, misshapen sphere, with a white blob on the bottom. “Er... What is it?”

Draco snatched it off him. “Father Christmas, of course. Honestly, Potter. Can't you see his beard?”

“Oh,” Harry said, tilting his head to study it. “Yeah, I can see that now.”

“If you breathe a word about this to our friends, I'll -”

“What, admit you were once a little kid?” Harry laughed. “Scandal of the century, that.”

Draco hung the ornament back on the tree. “I suppose everything you made as a kid was an artistic marvel.”

“I wouldn't know. Anything I made at school got destroyed by Dudley before we even got home,” said Harry.

Draco's brow creased. “Sorry, I didn't think.”

Narcissa rested a hand on each boy's shoulder and gently steered them away from the tree. “Come have some tea while it's still hot, and you can tell me all about what you've been up to this term. I'm assuming you did something other than rebel against that Umbridge woman?”

********

  
The days leading up to Christmas flew by for Harry, who could have quite happily spent twice as long at the Manor, despite the terrible weather. On the one day it stopped raining, he and Draco spent the morning flying around the extensive grounds, checking out the ice sculptures the house-elves had made and showing Ladon the gardens. That afternoon Narcissa took the boys to an antiques store where Harry had bought a pair of finely carved whisky glasses for Severus' birthday. He also resolved to never, ever, go anywhere near a shop this close to Christmas again in his lifetime.

Most of the time, however, Harry spent inside, watching movies on Draco's television. With Theo at Tracey's house for first week of the holidays, Draco was taking the opportunity to show Harry all of his vampire movies. While he didn't particularly care about vampires, Harry didn't mind this at all. Not when it meant he got to spend hours snuggled up with Draco under a blanket in the television room. The constant rain on the window made him feel extra warm and cosy, and the house-elves would pop in every hour or two with trays of hot chocolate, gingerbread men and mince pies.

Dinner was eaten each night in the less formal dining room, with the elves serving a range of delicious winter roasts. Most of the time it was just Narcissa with them for the meal; Kingsley was so busy with Order business on top of his usual Auror work each day that he usually only managed to get back to the Manor after Harry and the Malfoys had retired to the lounge for the rest of the evening.

While Draco played game after game of chess with Narcissa, Harry enjoyed getting to know Kingsley. It didn't take long for him to see why both Narcissa and Draco liked Kingsley. Bald where Lucius had long, blonde hair; dark-skinned where Lucius had the same pale complexion as Draco and Narcissa; broad-shouldered instead of slim – he was about as different Lucius Malfoy as it was possible to get. 

Even his personal style was the complete opposite. Lucius Malfoy favoured elaborate dress robes and ornate jewellery. Kingsley was more often than not in his red Auror robes, his only accessory a single gold hoop in one ear. Most importantly, he was friendly and approachable – Harry enjoyed long conversations with him about either Quidditch or defence strategies – and got along well with the house-elves. Harry didn't think Draco had anything to worry about. Narcissa had clearly found someone who was right for her.

On Christmas Eve, after saying goodnight to Narcissa and Kingsley in the lounge, Draco convinced Harry to sleep in his bedroom instead of Harry's usual room. Harry quickly brushed his teeth and changed into his pyjamas then crept next door, trying not to let his slippers scuff too loudly on the floor. 

When he slipped inside the door to Draco's room he found all the candles had been extinguished. The fire was still burning in the grate, warming the room, though it was close to dying out. Harry could hear Draco brushing his teeth in the bathroom, so he toed off his slippers, put his glasses on the bedside table and settled down to wait in the bed.

Twenty minutes later he was lying flat on his back while Draco sucked on his earlobe.

“It's going to be boring without you here,” Draco whispered into his ear.

Harry couldn't help shivering at the feel of Draco's breath. “Er, yeah... But Theo's coming back not long after I leave,” he managed to say.

Draco pulled back and raised an eyebrow at him. “If you think I want to do anything like _this_ with Theo, you're mad.”

Harry couldn't help gasping when Draco slid a hand into his pyjama bottoms. “Good,” he breathed, “because if you did I'd have to team up with Tracey to kill you both.”

Draco chuckled and tightened his grip. “Duly noted.”

“Besides,” Harry said, bucking up into Draco's hand, “tomorrow's certainly going to be memorable.”

“What are you on about?”

“I mean my dad and Sirius spending Christmas Day together? Someone's getting hexed.”

“Mm, but there'll be two Aurors on hand to stop them. Plus Mother would flay them alive if they ruined Christmas,” Draco pointed out.

“You know, I've wondered before who'd win a duel out of my dad and your mum,” Harry said inanely.

Draco pulled a face. “Can you not talk about our parents when I've got my hand down your pants? It's weird.”

“You're the one who started it,” Harry pointed out. “I was quite happy snogging until you decided to use your mouth for talking.”

Draco licked his lip nervously then bit it. “Would it make you feel better if I used my mouth for something else?”

“What d'you mean?” asked Harry.

Draco smirked faintly. “You figure it out.”

Harry blinked at him momentarily until Draco slid down the bed, trailing kisses along Harry's torso. “Oh, fuck,” he moaned.

Draco looked up from Harry's groin, his hands on his waistband. “I can stop now if you want.”

“Please don't,” Harry blurted desperately.

Draco smirked again, wider this time, and pulled Harry's pyjamas down completely. As Harry watched, Draco licked his lips and stared at Harry's penis with a frown of concentration. He leaned forward and gave a tentative lick to the head, making Harry suck in a breath. Draco's eyes flicked up to meet Harry's, before he gave another, more confident lick. Harry bit his lip to stop himself from whimpering.

A second later Harry's head fell back on the pillows as he felt Draco's mouth encase the tip. He stared wide-eyed up at the ceiling while Draco set to work with earnest, then threaded his hands into Draco's hair. He'd thought Draco's hand had felt good, but that was before he'd experienced the wet, soft warmth of his mouth. 

In an embarrassingly short time Harry felt himself getting close to the brink. He pulled gently on Draco's hair.

“I'm going to...”

Draco didn't raise his head as expected. Instead, he hummed an acknowledgement of Harry's announcement, and strengthened his suction. Harry's eyes rolled back in their sockets when he came. He felt Draco slide his mouth off of Harry and looked down to see Draco wipe his mouth with the back of his hand before he crawled back up the bed to lie his head on Harry's shoulder.

“What does it taste like?”

Draco ran his fingers over Harry's stomach as he considered this. “Skin, basically, but, I don't know, stronger somehow?” he said finally. “And then salty, I guess. Kind of bitter.”

“Huh,” Harry said.

“Why do you ask?” Draco asked.

“Why do you think?” Harry asked.

He didn't wait for Draco to reply, but just shrugged out of Draco's grip and slid down the bed to pull Draco's pyjama pants down his legs. He reached up to grasp Draco's erection and gave it a few tugs, then took a deep breath and bent his head down.

Just like Draco had told him, it tasted like skin. It wasn't unpleasant by any means, and Harry enthusiastically set to learning a new skill. He tried to copy what Draco had just done to him, though his eyes watered when he accidentally swallowed too much of Draco's length and began gagging. He pulled back to a more manageable depth and renewed his efforts, strengthening his sucking.

He got so caught up in what he was doing that he barely noticed when Draco tugged on his head. He ignored him, anyway, and kept sucking until Draco bucked rapidly and filled Harry's mouth with hot, salty fluid. He swallowed then slid his mouth off Draco and moved back up the bed. He curled over Draco's chest and threw an arm around his waist.

“You needn't have done that just because I did,” Draco said after a few minutes.

“But you didn't object until I was done,” Harry pointed out.

Draco chuckled. “Of course not. I'm not an idiot, Potter.”

Harry laughed and craned his neck to kiss Draco. “No, but you are a git.”

“True,” said Draco between kisses. “Why else would I be going out with a prat?”

********

  
Harry woke up to weak winter sunlight filtering through the window. Tilly had obviously been in sometime as the fire was once again burning brightly. He rolled over to find Draco still asleep next to him. He sat up and put his glasses on, then shook Draco gently. He groaned quietly and pulled the covers up over his head.

Harry shook Draco's shoulder a little harder. “Wake up, git, it's Christmas.”

The covers were yanked down and Draco blinked blearily up at him. “What time is it?”

Harry checked his watch. “Just past eight.”

Draco groaned again but sat up. “I suppose we'd better – oh, bollocks.”

Harry followed his gaze in alarm, not seeing anything amiss. “What is it?”

Draco pointed at the fireplace. “Tilly's put your stocking in here.”

Harry looked at the fireplace, which had two bulging Christmas stockings hanging from the mantle. “Yeah. So?”

“So she knows you slept in here, which means Mother does, too,” Draco said.

“She won't be that mad, will she?” Harry asked.

“I don't know, you've never been caught in here before,” Draco said slowly. He shook his head. “She won't say anything today, I suppose. Happy Christmas.”

He leaned over and kissed Harry, who smiled back at him. “Happy Christmas.”

“Go put your stocking on your bed and we can go into the lounge for presents,” Draco said.

Harry got out of bed and wrapped his dressing gown around himself, then walked over to pick up his stocking. It was stuffed full with all manner of sweets, more than he'd ever had at one time before, and he couldn't help but think Hermione would have a fit if she saw them all.

By the time Harry had dropped his stocking on his bed and picked up a sleepy Ladon, Draco had managed to get out of bed and put on his own dressing gown. He was waiting for Harry in the hallway, smoothing down his hair, when Harry walked back out of his room. 

“Hurry up,” he said impatiently.

Harry opened his mouth to point out that he'd woken Draco up in the first place, then thought better of it. He couldn't be bothered having an argument, not today. He was sure there'd be enough of that once Severus and Sirius were forced to socialise.

The lounge was empty when they walked in, though the fire was already lit. Harry placed Ladon on the hearth and turned around just as Dobby Apparated in. His outfit was almost coordinated today: he was wearing a Father Christmas costume, complete with hat and beard, though he was wearing his gold sandals and ladybird socks instead of shiny black boots.

“Happy Christmas Mr Draco and Harry Potter!” he squeaked excitedly. 

“Happy Christmas,” Draco replied.

“I like your outfit,” Harry said, ignoring the glare Draco sent him.

“Thank you, sir! Miss Narcissa is giving it to Dobby this morning! Dobby is thinking it needs some tinsel, though,” the elf said, peering down at himself critically.

“It's fine,” Draco said quickly. “Are Mother and Kingsley ready?”

Dobby straightened up again. “They is on their way, sir. Dobby is here to see if breakfast is needed, though Miss Narcissa says tea will suffice.”

“Tea's good,” Harry said. Draco nodded his agreement.

Dobby Disapparated with a crack, reappearing seconds later with a tea tray, far fancier than the one they usually used at the Manor. Harry supposed all the good silver and china would come out today. Dobby was in the middle of pouring out the tea when Narcissa and Kingsley walked in. Unlike the boys, they had both gotten dressed, and Narcissa had already done her hair and makeup.

“Thank you, Dobby, that should be all for now,” Narcissa said.

“Yes, ma'am,” Dobby said, and disappeared again. 

“Happy Christmas, boys,” Narcissa said, walking over to envelope them both in a warm hug. 

She released them and sat down on a couch next to Kingsley while the boys knelt down in front of the piles of presents under the tree. Draco immediately reached for his closest gift and began unwrapping it, but Harry gazed around the room for a few seconds, grinning stupidly. For the first time in his life, he was part of a family Christmas. At Privet Drive, he'd always been relegated to the kitchen, preparing the Christmas lunch of which he'd only get scraps, and listening enviously while Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon showered Dudley with presents all morning.

Draco may have gotten even more presents than Dudley usually did, but Harry didn't mind. He had his own pile of presents – but most importantly, he was a proper part of things. How could he be forced out of the day's festivities when Narcissa had hugged him the same as she had Draco? Harry ducked his head and leaned forward to open his own presents.

Hagrid had sent him a large, furry wallet with fangs which Harry supposed was a form of security, though it also prevented him from putting his own hand into the wallet without risking losing his fingers.

Draco had given him the first of what Harry supposed was many Holyhead Harpies-related presents: a signed group poster of all the current line up. “You have no idea how wrong it felt buying a poster of an opposing team,” he said, when Harry unwrapped it.

Harry looked up from the poster, on which the team were flying over a Quidditch pitch. “Just think of all the extra brownie points you get for this.”

“Brownie points?”

“Muggle thing. I'll explain later.”

Hermione had sent him a book on the history of the Holyhead Harpies, from their formation in 1203 to their most famous match in 1953. It was thick and heavy, and Harry thought it would make good holiday reading once he got home.

Narcissa knelt down between the boys and gave Harry his present, which turned out to be a black, Muggle coat. “I figured you would have grown out of your old one by now,” she said.

“Yeah, I have. Thank you,” Harry said.

“You're welcome,” Narcissa said, before turning to Draco.

His pile of presents exhausted, Harry sat back on the couch with Kingsley while Draco continued to work through his pile of gifts with Narcissa's help. Harry was drinking his tea when Dobby Apparated into the lounge right in front of him.

“Professor Snape is here, Miss Narcissa!” he said before he Disapparated again. 

Harry put his tea cup back on an end table before jumping up to face the doorway. A second later Severus walked into the room. Harry hurried over to greet him with a hug. 

“Happy Christmas, Dad!”

“Happy Christmas, Harry,” Severus replied.

He let go of Harry to walk over to Narcissa, who had risen to her feet. “A small gift for our hostess,” he said, holding out a bottle of wine.

“Thank you, Severus, you shouldn't have,” she said, accepting the bottle.

Severus withdrew a potions vial from his robes. “Should I assume that you don't want this, either?” 

Narcissa's eyes lit up. “Oh, no, that's wonderful!”

Harry watched with amusement as she took the bottle of hangover cure. “Just how much are you lot planning on drinking today?”

“It's merely a precaution,” Severus said, then put a hand on his shoulder. “I've got something for you, too.”

He sat down on a couch with Harry and handed him a heavy present. Harry unwrapped it to reveal a thick book of art history, and a few thinner ones with tutorials on different techniques.

“I thought you might like to experiment a bit,” Severus explained.

“Yeah,” Harry said, flipping through one of the books, which had exercises for him to try out. “Looks like fun.”

Severus visibly relaxed. “I also bought you this.”

Harry unwrapped a squashy present to find a Harpies scarf, dark green with a golden talon slashing down one end.

“You remembered,” he said, touched.

“I said I'd buy you one for Christmas,” Severus said gruffly.

Harry lifted the scarf out to reveal a set of cotton Harpies pyjamas. They were also dark green, but the golden talon was centred in the middle of the chest.

“You won't be able to wear them until the weather warms up I'm afraid, but they didn't have any winter ones in stock,” Severus said apologetically.

Harry shook his head. “I love them. Plus Narcissa gave me winter pyjamas last year.”

Harry put his new clothes down and knelt on the floor, searching for his gift to Severus. He found it and handed it over, watching nervously as Severus unwrapped a shiny set of Potions scales.

“I know it's not the most original, getting the Potions teacher Potions equipment, but the display on your old ones is getting hard to read,” Harry said.

“This was very thoughtful,” Severus assured him.

Harry beamed at him, then went to fetch Ladon. The snake flicked his tongue up at Severus' face then curled up happily in his lap. Severus stroked him and peered down at him curiously.

“I think he's going to end up being a darker green than we thought, Harry,” he said.

Harry nodded. “Looks like it.”

The two of them chatted with Kingsley for the next twenty minutes or so, drinking tea while they waited for Draco to finish with his endless mound of presents. When he was finally done, Narcissa sent the boys to get dressed before the other guests began arriving. At Draco's insistence, Harry put on his dress robe, though he was permitted to forgo a tie. Harry had to admit that starchiness of his collar was a small price to pay to see Draco in his black dress robe.

The Tonkses were the first to arrive, with Tonks bounding into the room almost a full minute before her parents. Harry moved over to the window with Severus and Kingsley while the Malfoys and Tonkses exchanged gifts. Harry had to duck when Tonks accidentally sent a piece of wrapping paper flying at his face.

Not long after, Sirius and Remus walked into the room. Like Severus and Andromeda, Sirius presented Narcissa with a bottle of wine. He handed Draco a present, then walked over to Harry. Severus stiffened slightly, but didn't say anything as Sirius pulled Harry into his customary bear hug.

“Happy Christmas, Harry. This is from Remus and me,” Sirius said brightly, holding out a present.

“Thanks,” Harry said. He unwrapped it to reveal a set of books called _Practical Defensive Magic and its Use Against the Dark Arts_. “Oh, this'll be brilliant for teaching the DA!”

“You'll have to tell us all about that, we've only had a second-hand account from Severus during an Order meeting,” Remus said.

“My information was correct,” Severus said.

“I don't doubt it,” Remus said mildly.

When the latest round of gift-giving was over Narcissa invited everyone into the formal dining room. The table there was set even more elaborately than Harry was used to at the Manor. Each setting had a placement card on it, and there was a minute or so of fuss as everyone found their seats. Harry was pleased to be next to Draco, who was at the foot of the table opposite his mother. On Harry's other side was Tonks, and opposite him was Sirius. Harry noted with amusement that Narcissa had seated Severus and Sirius as far away from each other as possible.

Ten different elves, whom Harry vaguely recognised from the kitchen, Apparated in, each with a glass of white wine in one hand and a napkin draped over their other arms. They served everyone a glass, laid a napkin over their laps, and Disapparated again.

Narcissa lightly tapped her glass with a knife. “I'd like to say a few words before the entrees arrive.” She waited until everyone fell silent, then cleared her throat. “A week ago, we lost the first of our number in this war. Some of us knew him better than others, but Arthur's death was a tragedy, one that we will all continue to feel for some time. Will you all please join me in a minute's silence.”

Everyone bowed their heads. Harry could hear Tonks sniff a few times beside him, but apart from that there was no other sound for a full minute.

Finally, Narcissa cleared her throat again and raised her glass. “Thank you. To Arthur, may he rest in peace.”

“To Arthur,” everyone echoed, raising their own glasses.

Narcissa clicked her fingers, and the same ten elves appeared to serve the first course. Over the bustle of everyone being served, Kingsley got up and walked out of the room. Narcissa excused herself politely and followed him.

Tonks watched them leave. “He's still pretty broken up about it, poor guy. They were friends, and to find him like that...” she whispered.

“He's getting better,” Draco said defensively.

“It takes time,” Remus said, “but the pain will fade.”

“Mostly,” Sirius said quietly. He met Harry's eyes and forced a smile. “So, come on. Let's hear about this DA you're running.”

The mood gradually lightened, and Narcissa and Kingsley returned to the table in time for the first course. The elves were continuously popping in to refill glasses, replace dropped cutlery and clear away empty dishes. Harry did his best to sample each dish that appeared on the table: roast pork with crackling; roast goose, duck, and quails; piles of roast potatoes, pumpkin, squash and carrots; bowls of mashed potato, green beans and peas. The centrepiece was the roast peacock that Dobby brought in and placed reverentially on the table. It had been dressed in its white tail feathers after being roasted. 

“Happy Christmas!” Dobby said proudly.

Everyone stopped talking to look up at the peacock's tail feathers, which were stretching up towards the ceiling.

“Thank you, Dobby,” Narcissa said faintly. “Was that...”

Dobby nodded. “It was the leader, yes, Miss Narcissa!”

For the first time ever, Harry witnessed a speechless Narcissa. 

Kingsley cleared his throat. “It looks marvellous Dobby, I'm sure it will be delicious.”

Dobby bowed. “Thank you, sir,” he said, then Disapparated.

There was another silence, broken by Sirius leaning forward. “I, for one, want to know what roasted peacock tastes like.”

Rather like quail, Harry discovered, only a little tougher and with less bones. Over the course of the meal he had a little bit from each dish, and was pleasantly full by the time the elves cleared the table. He somehow managed to find some extra space in his stomach when dessert was served. He sipped his sweet wine and stared over a mass of countless tarts, cakes and puddings. In the centre of the table was a miniature replica of Malfoy Manor at Christmastime, right down to icing sugar falling onto it like snow. 

Harry felt a rush of affection for Draco, leaving all this behind to stay at Hogwarts with Harry over past Christmases, and he told him as such. 

“Clearly I'm a selfless martyr who should be revered as a saint,” he said with a giggle.

“I wouldn't go _that_ far,” Harry said, giggling as well.

Severus leaned forward to catch Harry's eye. “That's enough wine for now.”

Harry nodded sheepishly, feeling a little light-headed, but Draco pouted when Narcissa chimed in. “Mother, it's Christmas.”

“And you're underage,” she said, then leaned back to talk to the nearest house-elf.

The elf nodded and walked around the table to pour both boys a large glass of water.

“Thanks a lot, Iggy,” Draco muttered to the elf.

“Don't take it out on the elf,” said Tonks. “He's only doing what Narcissa told him to.”

“Which is entirely hypocritical of her given how drunk the rest of you are getting,” Draco retorted.

“That's 'cause we're older. Gotta have some perks for being all wrinkly and decrepit,” Sirius said, ostentatiously refilling his own glass, then Remus' and Tonks', and smirking at Draco the entire time.

Draco narrowed his eyes. “You know, Uncle Sirius, I think the peacocks miss you.”

Sirius tilted his head back and gave his loud, bark-like laugh. “Nice try, but I'm not falling for that. Not again.”

“Falling for what?” Harry asked curiously.

Remus laughed. “Last summer, at his birthday dinner, Draco convinced Sirius that it'd be a good idea to go chase the peacocks in his Animagus form.”

Draco smirked at Sirius. “It was a good idea from where I was standing. You're even worse at chasing them than Crookshanks is.”

Harry snorted. “That's pretty bad, Sirius.”

“I'd like to see you have a go at them. They're more vicious than Moony during his time of the month,” Sirius said.

“I'm not sure if I should be insulted or flattered,” Remus remarked.

“Then clearly you need some more wine,” Tonks said.

“You think so?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. The effect was somewhat marred by his immediately hiccoughing. 

“Yep,” Sirius said, refilling the glass yet again.

Remus pointed a finger at Harry. “This is why you shouldn't date anyone in the Black family. They gang up on you and it's all terribly unfair.”

“I'll take your advice when you do,” Harry said with a laugh.

“Never, then,” Sirius declared, leaning over to plant a noisy kiss on Remus' cheek.

Tonks dropped her dessert spoon with a clatter. She ducked under the table to retrieve it, nearly head-butting the elf who had appeared by her chair, and sat back up with a red face.

“More wine for my little cousin!” Sirius said happily, handing her the bottle.

“You better not be giving any more to Harry,” Severus called sharply.

“Still drinking water!” Harry said loudly, before Sirius could respond.

When everyone had eaten their fill Narcissa rose to her feet, signalling the end of the meal. The entire group trooped back to the lounge with the happy lethargy that often follows Christmas lunch. Sirius and Remus claimed a couch, with Harry, Draco and Tonks taking the couch opposite them, while everyone else settled in the armchairs grouped on the other side of the Christmas tree. No sooner had everyone sat down than house-elves Apparated in to serve everyone a glass of eggnog.

“So, Draco,” Sirius said quietly, “what pranks have you played on Umbridge so far?”

“None,” Draco said.

Sirius' eyebrows shot up. “What? Why not?”

Draco shrugged. “I've been busy with the DA.”

“Which is a pretty good excuse,” Remus said.

“I'm still disappointed in you,” Sirius said.

“Am I missing something here?” asked Harry.

Draco smirked. “Sirius and I spent the summer pranking each other.”

“That's why you tricked him into chasing the peacocks?” Harry guessed.

“Yes. As revenge for him turning my hair blue,” said Draco.

Sirius, Remus and Tonks all burst into laughter. “That was brilliant, that was. I put a little dye in his shampoo and he was stuck with bright blue hair for a day until Narcissa took pity on him,” Sirius said happily.

Harry couldn't help joining in the laughter at that.

“Traitor,” Draco muttered.

“You'll be pleased to learn that one of their only rules is that you and I are off limits,” Remus told Harry. 

“I am, actually,” Harry agreed.

“Anyway, when I learned about Umbridge I just assumed Draco would go after her,” Sirius said. “You've shown some real talent.”

“Thank you,” said Draco.

“So, in the spirit of Christmas and whatnot, I'm going to give you some advice,” Sirius announced.

Harry and Draco shared a glance and leaned forward with interest. Sirius spent the next hour or so offering suggestions, all of which he had performed himself while at Hogwarts, usually with James, and often with Remus or Pettigrew. Harry was left with a new found respect for the abilities of James and Sirius.

“Now I know why you and Dad got detention so much,” Harry finally said. He gave a giant yawn and stood up. “Thanks for the suggestions, but I think I need a lie down.”

“Too much wine?” Tonks asked with a snigger.

“Yeah,” Harry said truthfully. He reached down and pulled Draco up. “You're coming with me.”

Leaving the adults on the couch, the two boys lay down in front of the fire, where Ladon was dozing on the hearth.

“Is he ill? I've never seen him sleep so much before,” Draco said.

Harry shook his head. “Nah, he's brumating. It's what some snakes do in winter, sort of like hibernation, but they don't completely shut down. He's not got it that bad since I keep him inside and can cast Warming Charms all the time.”

“Huh,” Draco said. “That does sound like a good idea, actually.”

Harry smiled sleepily at him. “Yeah...”

Lying in front of the fire having consumed too much food and wine, Harry fell asleep quickly – too quickly to clear his mind.

He dreamed he was lying in front of a fire, and for a moment he thought he'd just woken up in the lounge of Malfoy Manor. But the fireplace was all wrong; its paint was peeling, there was no golden set of fire pokers next to, and the fire smelled like wet, rotting wood, not fresh pine cones. 

“What?” Harry mumbled.

His voice woke the snake sleeping on the hearth. It shifted restlessly, and Harry noticed how big Ladon had grown. Although he could have sworn Ladon's scales were a darker green than that... 

The snake raised its head and looked behind Harry. “ _Master?_ ”

“ _Hush, Nagini_ ,” came a quiet, cold voice. “ _We have a visitor..._ ”

Harry turned around to see Voldemort seated in a battered, dingy armchair, studying him curiously and twirling his hand in one hand.

“ _Yes... I see you, Harry Potter..._ ”

With Voldemort's cold laughter ringing in his ears, Harry leaped for the door in his dream – and found himself sitting bolt upright, back on the floor of the lounge. The wonderful, warm, brightly lit lounge that contained nearly all of the adults he trusted most in the world. Sparing a glance at Draco and Ladon and finding them both still napping peacefully, Harry got up and made his way over to the clustered adults. He didn't know how long he'd been out for, but it must have been a while, as the sky outside the windows was dark.

Remus was sleeping on the couch, with his head in Sirius' lap. Sirius was gently stroking his hair and sipping from a glass of wine, watching the fairies in the Christmas tree and nodding along to the Christmas carols playing from somewhere. Kingsley was also asleep, though he was sitting upright in an armchair. Beside him, Narcissa was leaning over a chessboard and glaring good naturedly at Andromeda, who seemed to be beating her. 

Harry ignored them all, heading straight for Severus, who was playing cards with Tonks and Ted.

“Dad, can I talk to you?” Harry asked.

Severus took one look at his face and stood up. “I fold. Congratulations, Tonks.”

“Yes!” she crowed, then turned to her father. “One against one?”

“Why not?” Ted said.

Harry led Severus out of the lounge and into the corridor. “How drunk are you?”

“A bit. What happened?” Severus asked.

He sounded sober enough for Harry. “I had a dream about Voldemort, while I was sleeping by the fire. And it felt real.”

Severus frowned at him. “Had you cleared your mind?”

“No, I fell asleep too quickly,” Harry admitted. “Should I do it now?”

“Yes!” Severus snapped, then let out a breath. “Sorry. Yes. Occlude.”

Harry did so, then nodded. “Okay.”

“Alright. Tell me everything you can about this dream,” Severus ordered.

Harry did so, watching Severus' face grow graver the longer he talked. When he finished speaking, Severus stood there in silence, frowning off into space.

“What's it mean? He watches me while I sleep?” Harry asked, feeling incredibly disgusted.

“Perhaps...” Severus said, still staring off into space.

“What?” Harry cried.

Severus jerked to face him. “I didn't mean - I was thinking out loud.”

“Oh, good,” Harry said fervently.

“I do not believe he can watch you sleep. I don't think your connection works that way.”

“So how does it work then?” Harry asked.

“I believe that your satellite metaphor is the most apt description. I do not, however, think he has fully realised the extent of this connection, or he would have tried to manipulate you through it. He may attempt to do so now that he appears to have become aware of your mental presence. You should be safe as long as you Occlude whenever you sleep, as that's when your mind is its most vulnerable to Legilimency from such a distant assailant.”

“What about when I'm awake?” Harry pressed.

“Have you had any visions whilst conscious?” asked Severus.

Harry shook his head. “No, but the night when Umbridge gave Theo and I detention – when we were in Dumbledore's office – I had a flash of hatred. Towards Dumbledore. I wanted to attack him. To make him hurt.”

“Why didn't you tell me at the time?” Severus asked angrily.

“I forgot,” Harry said miserably. “I got caught up in everything Umbridge had done and I'd been Occluding for seven hours...”

“That's it,” Severus said, his eyes flashing. “Your mind was once again in a weakened state after Occluding for so long.”

“Are you sure?”

“Not entirely. Once again, none of this fits into the usual rules of mind magic. I'll have to do some research once we're home, and I'll speak to Albus about it when we're back at Hogwarts.”

Harry couldn't help slumping a bit at those words. “So we're leaving now?”

“We're leaving tomorrow morning. This changes nothing,” Severus said firmly, then rested his hands on Harry's shoulders. “I don't want you worrying about this tonight, alright? Do whatever you need to do to take your mind off this. Hell, use your Cloak to sneak into Draco's room for the night if that's what it takes.”

Harry narrowed his eyes. “You're drunker than you said you were.”

“No, I'm not. But this is our first Christmas as a family, and you're going to enjoy yourself. I haven't spent all day in the same room as your godfather for my own amusement,” Severus said.

“Oh,” Harry said, then leaned forward to hug him. “Thank you.”

Severus patted his back, then drew away. “You're welcome. I do, however, want you to do two things for me.”

“What?”

“Make sure you clear your mind and bring up your barrier before going to sleep tonight.”

Harry nodded. “Easy.”

“And if Narcissa finds you in Draco's bed, I knew nothing, and will deny everything if asked.”

Harry burst into laughter. “Deal.”

They walked back into the lounge to find everyone gathered around the chess match, which was drawing to a close. 

“Stop it!” Andromeda said with a laugh, slapping at a red-faced Ted's hand.

“But I'm helping you,” he said.

“No, you're helping Cissy, not me,” Andromeda informed him.

Ted gave her a wounded look. “I would never!”

“You just did,” Narcissa said smugly, moving a knight. “Check.”

Ted leaned back in his seat, away from the board and laughed. “That's my cue to shut up.”

The chess match ended with a victory for Narcissa. There was much ribbing between the sisters before a group of house-elves Apparated in, three of them bearing a gigantic fruit platter between them and another two bearing silver trays laden with glasses of champagne. Draco snagged two glasses and handed one to Harry.

“Last one,” Severus said.

Harry nodded and carried his drink over to the fire with Draco, where they sat down next to a currently awake Ladon. They sipped their drinks and answered the snake's questions about much of what was going on around them. After a while, Ladon said he wanted another sleep, so the boys stood up and left him to it. It was just as well; Harry had had a fantastic idea of how to drive all thought of his latest vision from his mind.

“I need your help with something,” he said.

Draco followed Harry out into the corridor. “What is it?”

“Fireworks,” Harry said with a grin.

“Fireworks?”

Harry nodded eagerly. “I've still got a bunch of the Weasley twins' fireworks. The ones that were too big to let off in the common room. Can you think of a better end to the night?”

Draco raked his eyes slowly down Harry's body. “Yes, actually.”

Harry laughed and took his hand. “Okay, but before that. You in?”

Draco grinned. “Definitely.”

Harry fished his stash of fireworks out of his trunk, and both boys put on scarves and hats. Draco eyed Harry's new scarf approvingly.

“If you couldn't follow the Falcons, I suppose the Harpies aren't that bad. Their colours suit you. I would've had to dump you if you started supporting the Cannons,” he said.

Harry laughed. “They're the orange team, right?”

Draco shuddered. “ _Bright_ orange.”

Harry shoved the fireworks into his robes before they walked back into the lounge. They crossed directly to the door that led to the balcony.

“Where are you going?” Narcissa called.

“Just wanted to see if there's enough snow for a snow fight,” Draco improvised.

“I don't think you'll have much luck there,” Sirius said.

Draco just shrugged and opened the door and walked out with Harry. “Bloody hell, it's cold out here!”

Harry shut the door with a shiver. “We better be quick, then.”

They sidled out of sight of the door and crouched down, trying to huddle against the wall to get some shelter from the wind. Harry pulled out a large rocket and was about to light it with his wand when Draco stopped him. 

“Hang on a second. Tilly!”

The elf popped up in front of them, immediately shivering in the cold. “Yes, Master Draco?”

“We're about to set off some fireworks. Can you let all the other elves know? They can stop whatever they're doing if they want to come watch,” Draco said.

Tilly nodded. “Yes, sir!”

When she disappeared Harry smiled at Draco and leaned over to kiss him. “That was really thoughtful of you.”

“They might've gotten scared by the noise,” Draco muttered, turning faintly pink.

“Softie.”

“Let's just get this over with. I'm freezing.”

“I wondered what you were up to.”

Both boys looked up guiltily to see Tonks making her way towards them.

“How'd you know we were up to something?” Draco demanded. “You're drunk, Nym.”

Tonks just laughed. “True, but I'm also an Auror, and you two had the distinctive air of being up to no good. Now, are you going to warn our parents what's about to happen, or do I have to?”

“We were just going to surprise them,” said Harry.

Tonks shook her head. “They're all in the Order, boys, you set off a bunch of explosions and they'd think we're under attack. It's a good thing someone older and wiser came along before you did anything stupid.”

Draco looked around in exaggeration. “Wiser? I don't see anyone wiser here.”

Tonks punched him in the shoulder. “Tosser. Go on, get the oldies out here.”

Draco ambled back to the doorway. “Attention! Harry and I have a surprise for you all out here!”

There was much grumbling as the adults obligingly came out onto the balcony and felt the biting wind. The complaints soon turned to cries of excitement when Harry set off the first rocket. He and Draco lit the rest as quickly as they could then went and joined the huddled adults. A series of closer popping sounds heralded the arrival of around a dozen house-elves who wanted to see the show.

Harry stood on the balcony, wrapped in Draco's arms, and smiled up at the multi-coloured explosions in the sky above. Apart from one unpleasant vision, his first family Christmas in fifteen years had been a roaring success.


	22. In Which Severus Tells Harry About His Own Family

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning for this chapter - it contains a fairly lengthy discussion of past domestic violence.

When Harry and Draco sat down at the breakfast table on Boxing Day, they found themselves completely alone in the dining room. With a shrug, they helped themselves to the food sitting out on the table. 

It was nearly eleven by the time Severus walked into the room, his eyes bloodshot and his hair more straggly than usual.

“Morning,” he said sourly.

Draco looked alarmed to be faced with such a grumpy Severus, but Harry sniggered. “You look like death.”

Severus ignored him and headed for the sideboard, where there were a few different teapots and a coffee service set up. He lifted the lid of the first teapot he came to, sniffed the steam, replaced the lid and moved to the next pot. He repeated this process three times before he came to a pot that evidently met with his approval. He poured himself a cup and brought it to the table to drink.

Draco turned to Harry with a face that clearly said he thought Severus had gone insane.

“He wanted the tea with the hangover cure in it,” Harry explained, laughing again.

Draco joined in, albeit a little nervously. “Oh. I guess that makes sense.”

Severus glared at him half-heartedly. “At least I'm up.”

Just then there was a thump outside the room and a muffled voice swearing passionately. The door opened and Tonks walked in rubbing her head. “Wotcher. Dad said there's something here that will make me not hurt.”

Severus jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “Silver pot with the roses on it,” he said, sounding more alert than before.

“Cheers,” Tonks said, shuffling over.

She poured her own cup and sat down next to Draco. 

“Bloody hell, Nym, I thought Harry's bed head was bad,” he said.

Tonks looked up from beneath a shaggy brown mop that Harry supposed was her natural hair. “Leave me alone. My hair physically hurts.”

“Aw, your cousin's as big a drama queen as you are, Draco,” Harry said, making Severus snort with mirth.

Draco's retort was derailed by Dobby Apparating into the room. “Good morning, sirs and ma'am!” he said brightly. He poured two cups of tea and Disapparated again.

Draco pointed to where he'd been. “Now _that's_ how you deal with a hangover. Get a house-elf to fetch your cure for you.”

“What exactly did you drink after Draco and I went to bed?” asked Harry.

Severus smirked, clearly feeling better. “Narcissa decided it was the perfect occasion to deplete Lucius' spirits collection.”

Tonks pressed her hands to her temples. “Ooh, don't mention alcohol.”

When both boys sniggered, Severus pinned them with a hard stare. “Funny, I seem to distinctly recall having to give a fourth year class a theoretical test last year when every single Slytherin showed up incapable of differentiating between their cauldron and their elbow.”

Draco gaped at him. “That's why we had that test?”

“Duh,” said Harry.

Severus raised an eyebrow. “How often do I assign theoretical tests in class instead of setting you all essays for homework?”

“Oh,” was all Draco said.

Severus pulled a dish of eggs towards himself and began spooning some onto his plate. “Harry, go pack your belongings. I'd like to get home before lunchtime.”

Harry got to his feet, pulling Draco along with him. They ran into Andromeda, Ted and Remus in the corridor, all of whom were looking a little worse for wear. 

“Silver teapot with the roses,” Draco said.

“Thanks,” Ted said hoarsely.

“Is Sirius up? Dad and I are leaving soon,” said Harry.

Remus shook his head, immediately wincing a bit. “Not yet, I'm afraid.”

It didn't take Harry long to pick up his presents from the lounge and carry them up to his room. He dumped them on his bed next to Ladon and looked at his school trunk despondently. 

“I really need to learn that Shrinking Charm,” he muttered.

Draco rolled his eyes. “Tilly!”

Tilly popped up in front of him. “Yes, sir?”

“Pack up Harry's things, please,” said Draco, flopping onto the bed.

“Yes, sir,” Tilly said, then looked up at Harry. “What is sir wanting Tilly to be doing with his owl?”

Harry peered out the window, where the clouds were as heavy as they'd been all holiday. “Put her in her cage, thanks, I don't want her getting caught in the rain.”

“Yes, sir!” Tilly said, then disappeared.

Harry sat down on the bed next to Draco to wait for Tilly to come back, only to get pulled on top of Draco and soundly snogged. He jerked back upright when a crack behind him heralded Tilly's return. She didn't say anything, just rested Hedwig's cage on the end of the bed and set about quickly packing up all of Harry's possessions. Harry reached out to stroke Hedwig while he watched Tilly, wondering idly what it would be like to have that much energy. Within minutes she had his things packed and shrunk down.

She handed him his doll-sized trunk. “Can Tilly be doing anything else, sir?” 

Harry shook his head, but Draco sat upright. “Yes, actually. Please go wake up my lazy uncle and tell him he's going to miss his only godson leaving if he doesn't get up soon. You should probably splash him with some cold water to make sure he's properly awake.”

“Yes, Master Draco!” Tilly said.

Harry picked up Ladon and draped him over his shoulders, letting him burrow into the folds of his scarf, then hefted Hedwig's cage under his arm. “Aren't you worried about what he'll do to get back at you?”

“Not really. He's only got until I return to Hogwarts to get back at me,” said Draco. “We have to take it in turns, you see, and we have a ceasefire while I'm at school.”

“Right...” Harry said. 

Draco rolled his eyes. “You sound like Remus.”

“What, sane?” Harry asked in amusement.

“Ha, ha. Oh, by the way, if Theo gets here and decides to abandon me in favour of my library, can I come over to your house?” Draco asked, leading the way out of the room.

“Sure. Come over whenever you want,” Harry told him.

Narcissa and Kingsley were in the dining room by the time the boys got back, both of them fresh and cheerful. Harry and Severus had almost finished saying their farewells when a dishevelled, dripping wet, dressing-gown clad Sirius slouched into the room. “Where is he?” he growled at Harry.

“Right here,” Harry said, staring at him in concern. Was Sirius somehow still drunk?

Sirius ruffled Harry's hair. “Not you, I meant my cheating little snot of a nephew.”

“I didn't cheat,” Draco retorted. 

“You got a house-elf to drown me in my sleep!” Sirius yelped.

“And which rule does that break, exactly?” asked Draco.

Sirius glared blearily at him. “It – it has to be against one of them!”

Severus stepped up behind Harry and held out a teacup to Sirius. “Drink this so you can stop rambling and say goodbye to Harry.”

Sirius turned red-rimmed eyes on him. “What, and let you poison me? No thanks, Snape.”

“If I wanted to poison you, you'd already be dead, Black,” Severus snapped.

“Boys!” said Narcissa, making both Harry and Draco jump. “No, not you two. I'm talking to the two grown men currently acting like children. You behaved yourselves all yesterday, don't ruin it this morning. Sirius, we've all drunk that tea. It will cure your hangover, so I suggest you do the same. Severus, don't threaten my cousin.”

“Sorry, Narcissa,” they both said sheepishly.

Sirius gulped down the tea then withdrew a plainly wrapped package and handed it to Harry. “One last Christmas present. Open it up at home – there's a note in there explaining how to use it.”

“Thanks,” Harry said, bemused at such a cryptic gift.

Sirius just grinned and hugged him. “Go on, you better leave before Snape glares me to death.”

Harry hugged him back. “Right, yeah. See you.”

Just before the door shut behind him, Harry heard Sirius say, “As for you, Draco, we're discussing our rules after lunch.”

********

  
Fen House was freezing, colder than even the Hogwarts dungeons, which was unsurprising given that there was about three feet of snow surrounding it, and more falling steadily. Severus had some potions to brew for Pomfrey, and Harry decided to help him. They both put on their warmest clothes so they could go out to the barn; since Severus was so rarely at home during the colder months, there was no fireplace in the barn. Before they left the house, Severus lit a fire and told Harry to lay Ladon in front of it.

“So what are we making?” Harry asked, watching his breath steam in front of him.

Severus was scanning the ingredients shelves. “Skele-Gro, Pepper-Up and pain relievers. Take your pick.”

“Er, pain reliever. That's more likely to come up on my OWL, isn't it?” Harry said.

“Yes,” Severus said, depositing an armful of ingredients on the workbench. “Use one of the brass cauldrons, it reacts better with the dandelion. Can you tell me why?”

Harry thought about that as he began chopping up his first lot of roots. “Er, because brass is an alloy. Right?”

“Correct.”

Severus spent the rest of the time quizzing Harry about the pain reliever as he brewed his own potions. It was a challenge to answer questions as he focused on actually brewing the potion, but Harry managed to do both successfully. When he was done, he decanted it and handed it to Severus, who was clearing away the debris of his own potions.

“Good work,” he said with a smile. “Clean up your work area and I'll go make us some tea.”

Harry worked quickly, eager to get back to the house where it was at least warmer than the barn. He was soon trudging back up the garden path through a heavy snowfall. He got inside, shook the snow off his coat and draped it on the cloak rack to dry. 

Severus was sitting in his usual chair with both hands wrapped around a mug of steaming tea. Harry sank down onto the couch and Summoned his slippers from his room. He swapped them for his runners and drew his legs up onto the couch, then picked up his own mug of tea.

“You didn't ask me about Lily today,” Severus noted.

“I was a bit busy answering all your questions,” Harry pointed out.

“True,” Severus agreed.

“Although now that you mention it... What were my grandparents like?” asked Harry.

It was Severus' turn to shrug. “They were fairly unremarkable Muggles. I knew Mrs Evans slightly better than her husband, as he was often at work when I went round to Lily's house. When it was hot she'd give us lemonade, something I didn't get very often at home.”

“Were your parents health nuts?” asked Harry.

Severus let out a short, bitter laugh. “Not in the slightest. We were simply poor. Lemonade was a luxury in my house.”

Harry nodded. He could relate to that, though in his case, the Dursleys had withheld the small luxuries of childhood from him out of spite, not because they couldn't afford them. “What did my grandfather do?”

“He was an electrician.”

“And my grandmother didn't work?”

“No. Not many women did back then, if they were married with a family.”

Harry nodded, getting a vague picture of what Lily's family must have been like. “What were their first names?”

“Iris and Cecil, though I never addressed them by their given names,” Severus said.

“And were they nice?”

“They were more like your mother than they were your aunt,” Severus said, answering Harry's real question.

He nodded happily. “And what were my other grandparents like?”

“You'll have to ask either Black or Lupin about James' parents,” Severus said. “All I know is that they died before you were born, as did Lily's parents. Natural causes, though, I know that much.”

“And your parents?” asked Harry.

Severus went very still for a moment, before taking a sip of tea. “They were rather less nice than Lily's.”

When he didn't elaborate, Harry fidgeted. “I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked -”

“No, you have a right to know,” Severus said heavily. “It's just not a very pleasant subject.”

Harry thought about that for a second, then pulled out his wand. “ _Accio_ Christmas stocking.” He caught the stocking when it landed in his lap then held it out to Severus. “Chocolate?”

“While unpleasant, this narrative is unlikely to summon Dementors into our home,” Severus said.

Harry just picked out a chocolate for himself. “It's still chocolate,” he said, popping it into his mouth.

Severus rolled his eyes but selected a chocolate. “Very well.”

He didn't say anything further, though, instead busying himself refilling their teacups.

“Why don't you start at the beginning?” Harry prompted.

Severus nodded jerkily. “Mum's maiden name was Eileen Prince. She was a Slytherin at school, and the Captain of the Hogwarts Gobstones Team. She was an average student and never had many friends, but she should have been able to get a job at the Ministry.”

“Why didn't she?” asked Harry.

“She never had any career ambition. She'd grown up in Newcastle with her parents. She remained there throughout her twenties, working a series of jobs that didn't interest her. And then one night she went out to a Muggle pub, where she met my dad, Tobias.”

Harry smiled. Severus didn't.

“You already know Dad was a Muggle. Mum waited until they were married to tell him she was a witch. He didn't take it that well – they had their first fight about it, and he stormed out of the house, not returning until the next morning, stinking drunk. When he sobered up he claimed she'd used magic to trick him into marrying her, and he held it over her for their entire marriage.”

“That's ridiculous,” said Harry.

Severus leaned over to get another chocolate. “He wasn't the most astute thinker. In any case, he stayed with her for some reason. It certainly wasn't because he loved her, though she thought he did.”

“How do you know he didn't?”

“Because if he had he never would have treated her the way he did,” Severus said.

A chill went down Harry's spine. “What did he do to her?”

“He was an abusive bastard who was drunk more often than he was sober and had a violent intolerance towards anyone who at all differed from himself,” Severus said in a low voice.

“But – but she had magic and he didn't,” Harry said.

Severus pulled a face. “It's not that simple, Harry. Mum had left all her parents and her few friends behind in Newcastle to move in with Dad in Cokeworth. He successfully isolated her from them all, leaving her alone with him and without anyone to turn to.”

Harry frowned unhappily. “I don't understand. Why didn't she just Apparate to her parents' place? Or use magic to defend herself? We're allowed to use magic on Muggles in self-defence.”

“That's what I thought when I was your age. I began to think Mum was weak for staying with him, for leaving us both at his mercy,” Severus admitted. “It wasn't until I was older that I realised how trapped she was, even though she had magic. I know it's hard to understand, but there were a multitude of deeper psychological factors that you're not seeing, that I didn't see until I was much older. Like many abusers, my dad convinced Mum that any time he hit her, it was her own fault for provoking him. And she'd agree and apologise to him, and things would be calm for a while, until the next argument, when he'd snap.”

Harry thought about this. “Didn't anyone try to help her?”

“Did anyone try to help you at the Dursleys?” Severus asked quietly. “Did your neighbours enquire as to the purpose of fitting bars to your bedroom window? Did they ask why you were underfed and dressed in your cousin's cast offs? Why you were made to do the housework while your cousin sat in front of the television stuffing his face?”

“No...”

“People are very good at pretending they don't see what's happening right in front of them. And this was in the sixties and seventies, when the general attitude towards domestic violence was very different to what it is today, in both the wizarding and Muggle worlds. Even if she'd told someone, they could very well have brushed it off as a private matter, and not something she should be sharing with anyone outside her family,” Severus said.

“That's horrible,” Harry said.

“Just look at Theodore. He's run away from home and has taken on a new legal guardian – and Narcissa made it very clear to the Ministry why she had taken on that role – and yet it is unlikely the Ministry will ever investigate his father for child abuse,” Severus pointed out.

Harry sipped his tea moodily. “People really suck sometimes.”

“A lot of the time,” Severus said.

“Did your dad – what was he like to you?” Harry asked. He wasn't sure he wanted the answer.

“He never wanted me,” Severus with a firm certainty. “I understand that they had not planned on having a child at all.”

“He told you that you were an accident?” Harry asked, appalled.

“Frequently,” Severus confirmed. “But Mum never did. She loved me, though she was not adept at showing affection. From the moment I was born, perhaps even before, he hated me. He was furious when she called me Severus instead of a normal Muggle name like Gary or Keith. He never forgave either of us for that.”

“So – so he hit you, too?” Harry asked in a small voice.

“He tried. Most of my accidental underage magic manifested when he was scaring me. Mum said I was two the first time I showed any signs of magic. She was giving me a bath when he came in to use the toilet and I turned invisible. I don't know what he thought she was doing, kneeling in front of an apparently empty bathtub. She said that after he'd left, it took her fifteen minutes to convince me to reappear,” Severus said, a trace of pride in his voice.

Harry stared at him unhappily, unable to stop imagining a tiny, terrified Severus. “The only reason he never hit you was because you'd turn invisible?”

Severus shook his head. “As I got older I learned to just stay out of his way, to keep to the shadows, to walk silently. It wasn't a foolproof method, but the first time he actually did take a swing at me, my magic pushed him back. He never tried it again.”

“Good,” Harry said, smiling in relief.

Again, Severus didn't return his smile. “He never tried it again because he simply took it out on Mum. She'd explained about underage magic, and how I couldn't control it. To protect me, she never told him that once I'd begun at Hogwarts, I wasn't supposed to use magic outside of school.”

Harry stared down into his tea, feeling guilty now for thinking Eileen weak for staying with Tobias. She might not have been able to leave, but she'd made sure he didn't hurt Severus.

“She didn't want me to use magic on him, either. She loved him, and didn't want me to hurt him. I couldn't understand that. I tried to stand up for her, once. Just before I was due to start at Hogwarts, I drew my wand on him and he backed off. I was so proud of myself for making him leave her alone. I found out later that it simply made it worse the next time,” Severus said, his voice filled with self-loathing.

“You couldn't have known that,” Harry said.

“Perhaps not. Apart from when I tried to keep the Dark Lord from killing Lily, few things in my life have made me feel as helpless as Dad did. To know that I could fight back against him, if it wasn't for Mum telling me not to... It wasn't bad all the time. Sometimes, when she was in a good mood, Mum would teach me a new potion, or read to me, or we'd play Gobstones together,” Severus said, a sad smile on his face. “She did her best in a horrible situation. I just never realised it until after she'd died.”

“What happened to her?” Harry asked quietly.

Severus stood up. “Come with me.”

Harry followed him curiously up the stairs. It was colder up here, away from the fire, and Harry began to shiver. Severus walked into his room and sat on the side of his bed, patting the mattress beside him. Harry sat down and watched as Severus opened the drawer of the bedside table and took out a dark wooden box.

“It's customary in the wizarding world to give one's child a watch on their seventeenth birthday,” Severus said. “Mum saved for a year to give me this.”

He opened the box to reveal a handsome watch with a black leather band and a large silver face with Roman numerals on it. There were no hands on it. Instead, there was a tiny silver cauldron in the centre of the watch face, with tendrils of steam rising up from it to curl around the numbers of the hour and minute. 

“I was home for my seventeenth birthday. It was on the last day of the Christmas holidays, and Mum and I got up extra early, so that we could have pancakes for breakfast and she could give me this before taking me to King's Cross. She'd made a cake, too, and gave me the leftovers to take on the train with me.”

Harry listened with a growing sense of dread. Severus hadn't lifted his gaze from the watch, and there was a tightness to his voice that Harry didn't like. 

“Mum saw me onto the Hogwarts Express. She asked me again if I'd changed my mind about coming home for the Easter holidays – I intended to remain at school in order to study. I told her I'd think about it, but I had no intention of going home if I could help it. The smile she gave me told me she knew that, too,” Severus said, then sniffed suddenly. “That was the last time I ever saw her. Dad went out drinking that day – celebrating me leaving for another term, like he usually did. I don't know what exactly set him off, but when he got home for dinner, they got into another fight. He knocked her down and she hit her head on the kitchen table as she fell to the floor.”

Harry watched Severus through suddenly teary eyes. “Oh, no...” he breathed.

“He left her there,” Severus continued, his voice turning harsh. “He left her unconscious on the floor and went back to the pub. He was there for hours, while she bled on the floor. He was with his mates and forgot all about her. It wasn't until midnight that he left to go home. He was walking home when he got hit by a car and died instantly. Bastard didn't even suffer.”

Harry jolted with surprise, making a tear spill down his cheek. He brushed it away impatiently. “Then what happened?”

“The police went round to break the news to Mum. When she didn't answer the door they went away and came back in the morning,” said Severus. He took a deep breath and continued. “They knocked again, then asked the neighbours if they knew where she was. When they told them she rarely left the house, they broke through the front door and found her on the kitchen floor. She was rushed to hospital and placed in intensive care, but she didn't make it. There was too much brain trauma. She died the next day.”

Harry scooted over on the bed and put an arm around Severus' shoulders. “I'm so sorry.”

“I never got to say goodbye,” Severus said, sniffing again. “By the time the Muggle Liaison Office found out there was a witch in a Muggle hospital and contacted Hogwarts, she'd already died.”

Harry tightened his hold. He didn't say anything for a long time, just held onto Severus' shaking shoulders. Eventually, Severus stilled, and his breathing evened out. 

“I told you, in June, that Mum said she and Dad watch over me, that they can tell when I'm thinking of them. I'm sure your mum does the same. She'd know anything you wanted to tell her,” Harry said softly.

“Perhaps,” Severus said.

“Are you calling my mum a liar?” Harry asked.

Severus snorted. “No.”

“There we are then,” Harry said firmly.

Severus glanced briefly at him through a curtain of lank hair, then bent his head to look at the watch. His hair obscured his face from Harry's view, but he saw him reach out and trace the face of the watch with one shaking finger.

“I wore this for less than a week. The last time was the day of her funeral. I took it off as soon as I got home and put it back in this box. I couldn't bear the thought of something happening to it...”

“What was the funeral like?” Harry asked.

“About as depressing as you'd imagine it to be,” Severus said, then sighed heavily. “I was called to Dumbledore's office, where he and my Head of House, Slughorn, told me what had happened, how my parents had died. They both offered to accompany me back to Cokeworth, to help me make all the arrangements, but I refused. Albus didn't seem happy to let me go by myself, but I was of age and there wasn't anything he could do. 

“I had a week off school to organise her funeral. My parents had left everything to me, and I gave Mum the funeral I thought she'd have wanted. I gave Dad the bare minimum for his funeral, and I didn't attend. Mum's funeral was held in the local church. Not many people came. Mr and Mrs Evans did, though. Your grandparents. They came up to me afterwards, offered their condolences.”

“Did Mum...”

Severus met Harry's gaze briefly, before bowing his head again. “She came to speak to me shortly after I returned to Hogwarts. She told me her parents had written to her, and that she was sorry to hear about Mum. She was very kind but made it clear that she wasn't offering to renew our friendship. Even that was more than I deserved from her.”

Harry didn't entirely agree with that, but nodded anyway. “This was in your sixth year, right?”

“Yes. I went back to Cokeworth that summer. Unbeknownst to Dad, Mum had left me enough money in Gringotts that I was able to buy this place. I spent the summer moving in, though I never sold the house on Spinner's End. I used that to meet anyone who wanted to see me at home – mainly Death Eaters like Lucius, who were tasked with getting me to join them,” Severus said, his voice growing bitter again. “I didn't tell anyone about this place for years after I moved in. I wanted to keep it as a sanctuary, a place I could escape from the rest of the world. I didn't want it sullied by anyone else's presence.”

“Until McGonagall?” Harry guessed.

Severus' mouth quirked up on one side. “She was the first person I actually invited over, but she wasn't the first to come here. That was Jasper – he just wandered by one day and saw me working in the garden. He struck up a conversation with me, and the next week he came back with a carton of eggs and some milk, looking to trade them for some vegetables. It soon became a regular occurrence. It wasn't for another year or two before I felt comfortable inviting Minerva over.”

“Is it weird having a former teacher for a best friend?” asked Harry.

Severus smiled properly at that. “Is it weird having a current teacher for a father?”

“Sometimes,” Harry said honestly, “but mostly it's pretty cool.”

Severus snapped the watch box shut and stood up. “I wouldn't use those precise words, but that accurately captures my feelings, too.” He put the box back into the drawer and pushed it shut, then turned to Harry with uncharacteristic uncertainty. “I'm sorry for the depressing subject matter. I hadn't expected to become so emotional. It's not what I had envisioned us doing today.”

Harry gave him a small smile. “That's okay. I understand you'd get upset talking about that.”

“Yes, well,” Severus said, his cheeks reddening slightly. “You're the first person I've ever told the full story to.”

Harry's brows shot up. “I – really? What about McGonagall?”

“I've never told her the whole story before. I imagine that I've mentioned enough in passing that she's managed to piece together most of it, though,” Severus said.

“Oh,” Harry said, touched Severus had opened up to him.

“I would appreciate it if you did not mention the particulars to Draco or Hermione,” Severus said.

“Sure, of course,” Harry agreed at once. “Er, shall we have more tea?”

“Definitely,” said Severus. “While we're at it, have you ever played Gobstones before? I still have my mum's old set somewhere...”

********

  
The next morning, whilst unpacking his trunk of Christmas presents, Harry came across the mysterious package Sirius had given to him on Boxing Day. He opened it to find a hand held mirror. Taped to the back of it was a note from Sirius.

_Dear Harry,_  
_This is a two-way mirror – I've got the matching one. If you ever need to talk to me in person, say my name into the glass, and you'll appear in my mirror. James and I used to use them if we were stuck in separate detentions. They're not affected by distance or protective enchantments._

Harry turned the mirror back over, his mind racing as he grasped the implications of what he was holding.

Harry held the mirror up to his face. “Sirius Black,” he said clearly.

He stared into the mirror. His own reflection stared back at him. He was just beginning to wonder if this was a joke – Sirius had been engaged in a prank war with Draco after all – when Sirius' face appeared in the mirror.

“Harry! I see you opened your present,” he said with a grin.

Harry grinned back at him. “Yeah, just thought I'd test it out. So this'll work from Hogwarts?”

“Of course,” Sirius said. “You pretty much only have to worry about someone overhearing you talk.”

A disturbing thought had just occurred to Harry. “Does this mean that you can see through my mirror anytime? Even if I don't know?”

Sirius sniggered. “Worried I'll catch you and Draco doing something I really don't want to know about?”

“I – that -”

Sirius' sniggers turned into a full-fledged laugh. “Nah,” he said eventually, “I can't see anything until you look into your mirror – and vice versa.”

Harry slumped in relief. “Good. So... You seem to have recovered from Christmas.”

“Yeah. That wasn't my first hangover and it won't be my last,” Sirius said, then lowered his voice. “And that cure Snape made was great. Just don't tell him that.”

“Your secret's safe with me,” Harry promised.

“Cheers,” Sirius said. “So, when do you go back to Hogwarts?”

“The train goes on the twelfth, but Dad and I are going back a few days earlier,” Harry said, then narrowed his eyes. “You're trying to figure out how long you have to get back at Draco, aren't you!”

“No, now I _know_ how long I have,” Sirius said.

Harry sighed. “I'm an idiot. Just don't be too hard on him.”

Sirius winked. “Don't worry, he'll get to Hogwarts in one piece. I can't say the same about all the sweets he got for Christmas.”

Harry couldn't help laugh at that. “Okay, that's pretty good.”

“I thought so. Listen, I've got to go, but I'll talk to you soon, alright?” said Sirius.

“Yeah. See you,” Harry said.

He watched as Sirius disappeared from view. A second later and his own reflection reappeared in the mirror. He was still looking at the mirror when there was a knock on his door.

“Come in.”

Severus walked in with a frown. “Who are you talking to?”

“Why do you think I'm talking to anyone?” Harry stalled.

Severus raised an unimpressed eyebrow. “Harry, you mutter to yourself sometimes when you're thinking. You hiss at Ladon and coo at Hedwig -”

“I do not _coo_ ,” Harry interrupted.

“You coo at Hedwig,” Severus repeated, an amused glint in his eye, “and you attempt to sing. You do not, however, hold one-sided conversations with yourself and you certainly don't laugh at yourself. So who were you talking to? And how?”

Harry huffed and held out the mirror. “It's a two-way mirror. Sirius has the other one.”

To his surprise, Severus didn't scowl at the mention of Sirius. “These work through two different Fidelius Charms?” he asked curiously.

Harry nodded. “I guess. You're not mad?”

“Mad? Of course not. I may despise your godfather, but I can't deny that this is a useful tool to have at your disposal,” Severus said. “Besides, it could be worse. He could have actually been inside my house again.”

********

  
Apart from Draco coming over one afternoon, Harry and Severus spent the next two weeks alone at Fen House. It was bitterly cold the entire time, with almost as much snow as at Hogwarts and only one fireplace to warm the entire house, but Harry didn't mind it. It gave him an excuse to wear his new Harpies scarf non-stop, for a start, and he and Severus spent most of their time drinking tea in front of the fire.

Harry did venture outside when it wasn't snowing. He spent an hour outside one afternoon drawing the snow-covered landscape. Another day he made snowmen of himself and Severus, with a snow snake and owl at their bases. Both occasions left him chilled to the bone and he had to have long, steaming baths afterwards.

“ _I don't understand_ ,” Ladon had said on the second occasion. “ _Why would you go into the cold to play with the snow?_ ”

“ _Because it's fun_ ,” Harry said, sliding deeper into the hot water.

Ladon gave him a very unimpressed look from the toilet lid, which Harry had hit with a Warming Charm for him. “ _You're blue. I'm fairly sure humans should not be blue. I've certainly never seen another blue human before_.”

Harry eyed him suspiciously; Severus had said something very similar when Harry had stumbled inside on numb feet. “ _I'm warming up_ ,” he replied, holding a pink hand up out of the water as evidence.

Ladon flicked his tongue dismissively. “ _If you freeze to death I want to go to live with Draco, please._ He _wouldn't abandon me for a snow snake_.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “ _You just don't like snow because it covers up the garden_.”

“ _It's unnatural_ ,” Ladon said for the umpteenth time since returning home. 

“ _It'll melt by the time we're back next summer_ ,” Harry said yet again.

Ladon merely rested his head on a coil of his own body, unconvinced.

Harry and Severus each had their own work to occupy them for the holidays. Severus was reading through his collection of books on mind magic, trying to find an answer to the connection between Harry and Voldemort. Thanks to Harry talking to Ginny, he was able to rule out any complications from when Harry was possessed by Riddle's diary. Unfortunately, he was yet to find any other solid theories.

Harry, of course, had his holiday homework to do, as well as more Occlumency practice. He was definitely improving his mental shield, and one night, succeeded in keeping Severus out completely. Given how far Harry had progressed with Occlumency, Severus began to attack Harry with Legilimency when he wasn't expecting it. While Harry was able to immediately clear his mind when he was ambushed, it took him longer to bring up his shield than if he'd been prepared. He was also often left tired, or with a headache, and was more vulnerable to having his shield pierced later that same day.

Harry read through the defence books Sirius and Remus had given him, jotting down ideas for future DA lessons. Severus began to teach him how to cast Disillusionment Charms, though since they weren't usually taught until seventh year, Harry found them nearly as difficult as he had Patronuses. Thus far, he hadn't achieved true invisibility, just a translucency that tended to come and go if he moved.

“So which one do you think I should teach the DA first?” Harry had asked Severus one night.

“Patronuses,” Severus had said at once. “While Disillusionment Charms would be more generally helpful than Patronuses, which have a rather specific purpose, you have far more experience with the latter. They're both seventh year spells, so will be difficult to teach regardless, but I cannot see you being able to easily teach a spell you've only just learnt yourself.”

Harry had nodded unwillingly. He'd been looking forward to Disillusionment Charms himself, but he couldn't argue with Severus' logic. 

A couple of days after New Year's, Harry began his OWLs revision. This wasn't his idea; rather, an unfortunate consequence of having a teacher for a father, though Harry supposed he should probably have foreseen this. It wasn't that Severus was particularly pushy with regards to Harry studying – and certainly not as pushy as Hermione could get. He never stated any expectations over Harry's marks, other than getting Outstanding in both Potions and Defence. 

All the same, Harry felt an increasing pressure to study whenever the topic of OWLs came up. He knew that Severus didn't demand that Harry perform as well as he had; he was aware that Harry was far less studiously inclined than himself. But Harry dreaded what people would say should he, as the son of a teacher, fail his OWLs.

Most overriding of all was his desire to make Severus proud of him. He'd never really thought about it, but now supposed this is how his friends must have felt in all their previous exams. It was a new concept to him but, apart from the added pressure, Harry found he liked it.

********

  
The morning of Severus' birthday Harry had gotten up earlier than usual to bake a cake. One of the few useful things he'd picked up at the Dursleys' was the ability to bake a chocolate cake from scratch. He couldn't help grinning at the thought of what Aunt Petunia would say if she knew he was using the knowledge he'd garnered from his forced cooking at Privet Drive to bake a birthday cake for someone she despised.

By the time Severus walked down the stairs, Harry had the cake in the oven and was busy dishing up two plates of a full English breakfast.

“Something smells good.”

Harry spun around. “Oh, good, you're up. I was a bit worried a Warming Charm might make the food go soggy or something.”

Severus shook his head in bemusement. “Not unless you're performing the spell incorrectly.”

“Right,” Harry said, smiling bashfully. He put the teapot on the table and gave Severus a quick hug. “Happy birthday. Sit down, breakfast won't be long.”

Severus did as he was told, silently watching Harry potter around getting their breakfast ready. Finally, the toast was finished and Harry was able to sit down.

“You needn't have gone to all this trouble on my account,” Severus said.

Harry shrugged. “I wanted to. We're going to be stuck inside again because there's over a metre of snow, the least I could do is make a hot breakfast.”

Severus inclined his head. “Thank you.”

When they'd finished eating and Severus had charmed the dishes to clean themselves in the sink, Harry handed him his birthday present. Severus unwrapped it and held up one of the glasses.

“They're beautiful, thank you,” he said quietly. 

Harry grinned, pleased he liked them. “You're welcome.”

Harry iced the cake mid-morning and they had it for lunch, with enough left over for dessert that night and the next day. They had a quiet but pleasant day ensconced by the fire and listening to Severus' records. Harry stretched out on his stomach in front of the fire, drawing and chatting to Ladon, while Severus continued to read through his mind magic books. It might not have been the most eventful day, but given everything that had happened over the last few months, Harry rather welcomed the reprieve.

********

  
The next day they returned to Hogwarts. Severus Apparated them to the gates of the school grounds and paused to unlock them. Harry took the moment to let Hedwig out of her cage – she didn't like Apparating, but it was better than letting her fly through the heavy snow that had been falling in Wales. Severus locked the gates again and he and Harry set up off the drive, which looked like it had been recently cleared of snow.

“I wish we could just Floo straight to your office," Harry grumbled as the cold began to seep through his clothes. He could feel Ladon shifting unhappily around his neck, under his scarf.

“The Hogwarts grates don't allow external transportation, just between grates within the castle itself. One may use it for external communication, but the Floo Network at Hogwarts is being watched,” Severus muttered.

“What? Who by?” Harry asked.

“The Ministry of course.”

“Why?”

“Evidence against Albus, against you, or against the school in general...” Severus waved a hand dismissively. “It's more of an inconvenience than a real concern. Floo connections are ridiculously easy to eavesdrop on, no one in the Order is stupid enough to impart any sensitive information that way.”

When they walked into the castle they found it deserted. The only other time Harry had seen the castle this empty had been Christmas during his third year, when everyone had been terrified of Sirius. He lugged his trunk down to his dorm, which he and Ladon had all to themselves. 

With access to the Hogwarts library, Severus was busy searching for an explanation for the connection between Harry and Voldemort, leaving Harry alone with Ladon. He didn't mind at first. Having completed his holiday homework, Harry spent a lot of time showing Ladon around the castle, or taking him to talk to Ollie, before spending the evenings relaxing in front of the common room fireplace. 

It had been fun, in an eerie sort of way, to have the Slytherin common room all to himself, but Harry was very happy when the rest of the student body returned on Sunday. Apart from Vince and Greg, who were told bluntly by Theo that they weren't welcome, the fifth year Slytherins spent the night playing poker in the boys' dorm. Looking around the circle of his friends, Harry happily felt like he was prepared for whatever the new term threw at him.


	23. In Which the Dementors Free Some Death Eaters and the Ministry is Still in Denial

On Monday morning, with the rest of the DA back at Hogwarts, Harry decided not to waste any time and scheduled their first meeting for that night. He charmed his coin before getting up to get dressed. He was in the middle of getting his school things ready when Draco walked over.

“ _Tonight? We've only just gotten back. We haven't even had any actual lessons yet,_ ” he said quietly.

“ _Thought we might get an early start on Patronuses. Everyone's been bugging me about them,_ ” Harry replied.

Draco's eyes lit up. “ _Finally_.”

Harry rolled his eyes and hefted his school bag. “ _My point_.”

Since they didn't have a chance to talk during Potions that day, Harry went up to the Room of Requirement half an hour before the meeting, to catch up with Hermione. Draco came with him, though as he'd ridden the Hogwarts Express with her, he only half listened to their conversation while he read through a book on Patronuses. The three of them sat down on a pile of cushions next to one of the bookshelves.

“Did you have fun skiing?” Harry asked.

“It was alright. I still haven't mastered the art of not falling over, so I had quite a collection of bruises,” Hermione said. “I used all of the bruise paste you gave me.”

Harry grinned. “And how's Viktor?”

Draco raised his head to listen to Hermione's answer.

She blushed slightly. “He's well. Not much better at skiing than I am, but he enjoyed himself.”

“Did you spend the whole time skiing?” Harry couldn't picture Hermione being that sporty. 

Hermione reddened further. “No, we, er, we did other things, too.”

“Like what?” asked Harry.

Hermione didn't meet his eyes. “Oh, you know...”

Draco snapped his book shut. “They had sex.”

Harry stared at him. “What?”

“Draco!” Hermione snapped.

“What?” Draco asked innocently.

“Don't be a git,” Harry said.

Draco raised his eyebrows. “They did, though. Why else would she have turned bright pink? It was the same story on the train ride up: anytime Viktor's name got mentioned, Hermione blushed.”

“Shut up, Malfoy,” Hermione said.

Harry took pity on her. “You don't have to tell us if you don't want to.”

“Yes, she does,” Draco argued. “She's our best friend. Best friends are supposed to tell each other things like this. Everyone knows that.”

Harry looked between the two of them, torn. He knew he should tell Draco to shut up, but Hermione's reaction had gotten him curious now.

Hermione turned sly. “Have _you_ had sex?”

“No,” Draco said at once, “but I'd tell you if we had.”

Harry looked at him. “You would?”

Draco shrugged. “Wouldn't you?”

“I – yeah, probably,” he admitted.

“I don't believe you. Either of you,” Hermione declared.

It was Draco's turn to blush, but he met her eye. “We've given each other hand jobs and blow jobs, but we haven't had actual sex.”

“Draco!” cried Harry.

“Well, it's true, you prat,” Draco said defensively.

“I'm sure Hermione doesn't want details.”

“I could get a lot more descriptive than that if I wanted to.”

Hermione held up her hands. “Enough! Yes, we had sex. Happy?”

Draco smiled. “Yes.”

Harry stared at her in surprise – he hadn't quite believed Draco. “How was it?”

Hermione fidgeted with her skirt. “It was nice.”

“It didn't hurt?” asked Draco.

She shook her head. “No. I'd thought it might, but it didn't.”

“It felt good?” Draco asked encouragingly.

Hermione was redder than ever now. “Very,” she said quietly.

“Good for you,” Harry said.

Hermione blinked at him. “I – thank you?”

Draco leaned forward. “Did you only do it once, or...”

“A few times,” she said, smiling bashfully now.

“Are you seeing him again over Easter?” asked Harry.

Hermione considered this. “I don't think so. It'll depend on his training schedule, and of course I'll be busy studying for exams...”

“What better way to let off steam?” Draco asked, wiggling his eyebrows. 

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Why are you so fascinated by this? Surely if you want to hear about other people's love lives, you'd want to talk to Blaise?”

Harry and Draco looked at each other. 

“Actually,” Draco said slowly, “he only really talks about girls when he's chasing them. I can't remember him ever telling me about what he's done with anyone... Except for when he took Veritaserum, of course.”

Harry nodded thoughtfully. “I never really thought about it, but yeah, you're right. I know more about what Daphne gets up to than what Blaise does. Of course, that's partly because apart from gossiping with the girls, there isn't anything to do in Divination except for watching Pansy wind up Trelawney...”

“I hope you're not going to continue that class next year,” Hermione said sternly.

Harry shook his head. “No way. Even if I wanted to, which I really don't, I think Dad'd have a fit.”

“Good,” Hermione said in relief, then bit her lip. “Can we please keep this between us? About Viktor and I, I mean.”

Both boys nodded. “I promise,” Harry said. Draco echoed him.

Hermione gave a proper smile for the first time since Draco had broached the subject. “Thank you.”

“Give us some credit,” Draco said.

“Malfoy, you just badgered me into confessing I lost my virginity!” Hermione said indignantly.

“And?”

Harry rolled his eyes. “That's just 'cause he's a spoiled brat and you weren't giving him what he wanted. He's not going to blab to anyone.”

Draco narrowed his eyes at Harry. “I agree with half of what you just said.”

“What, that you're a spoiled brat?” Harry asked, then dodged when Draco raised his wand at him.

He was too slow. Harry wasn't sure how much time had passed before Draco Revived him. He sat up and straightened his glasses. Draco was smirking triumphantly at him, completely unrepentant, while Hermione was reading one of the books provided by the Room.

“As your defence teacher I'm very impressed. As your boyfriend I'm very unimpressed,” Harry said.

“I can Stun you again if you like,” Draco offered.

“I need new friends,” Hermione muttered to herself.

It wasn't long until the rest of the DA members began to arrive. The last to walk in was Cho, who'd come straight from Quidditch training.

“Alright, well, good to see everyone again. Hope you all had a good break, because you'll need some happy memories for tonight's lesson,” Harry said.

“We're starting Patronuses?” Morag asked excitedly.

“Yep,” Harry said. There was excited muttering at this, and Harry couldn't help grinning around the room. “Okay, first off, this is a really complicated spell, so don't be discouraged if it takes you a while to pick it up. Just keep that in mind.”

“Can you show us your Patronus?” called Lee.

Harry nodded. “ _Expecto patronum_.”

His fawn burst out of his wand and trotted around the room before coming to stand next to Harry. There were lots of “oohs” and “ahs” from the group. He let the fawn remain standing there for a few seconds before ending the spell.

“You need a powerful memory for this spell to work, especially in the presence of a Dementor. I usually think about my friends or family -”

“Are you saying thinking of _Snape_ helps you cast a Patronus?” Neville blurted out.

“Yeah,” Harry said over the laughter. “Obviously you guys need to find your own happy memories. It could be anything: winning the Quidditch Cup, a particularly good party in your common room, your first kiss... It doesn't matter what it is, as long as it make you happy. So take a minute or two to find something suitable, and then have a go at the spell.”

Harry walked slowly around the room as people began attempting the spell. Many people had their eyes screwed shut, clearly focusing on their memories. Puffs of silver mist began to appear here and there, mostly from the wands of the older students.

Halfway through the lesson, Cedric became the first person to cast a corporeal Patronus. He watched with delight as a silver badger came out of his wand and ran around the room.

“Brilliant!” Harry told him enthusiastically. “Guys, Cedric's done it!”

Everyone stopped what they were doing to watch the badger's course around the room, before it faded away. Cedric was red-faced at all the attention, but grinning happily. His success encouraged the rest of the group, and by the end of the lesson, most of the rest of the seventh years had all cast corporeal Patronuses as well.

The last to manifest was Lee's seal. He smiled as it swam through the air, but seemed a little guilty, standing next to the Weasley twins. They were the only seventh years who didn't manage to cast the spell properly, though it wasn't for lack of trying. They slapped Lee on his back in celebration, but even from across the room, Harry could see how frustrated they'd become.

The younger members were producing larger puffs of silver mist, and most of the fifth and sixth years had managed to produce fairly large shield Patronuses – some of them even had vague, indistinct outlines of animals by the time Harry called an end to the lesson.

“You've all done great. I'll let you know the usual way when our next lesson is,” Harry said. He got out the Marauders Map and began letting people out of the room. Ten minutes later it was just Hermione and Draco left with him.

“I don't get why the Weasley twins couldn't get this spell. They've been pretty quick to pick up all the other things we've gone through,” he said once they were alone.

“It's not surprising that they're having difficulty with this spell. They lost their father less than a month ago,” Hermione said.

“They seemed fine to me. They were joking around with Jordan all meeting,” said Draco.

“I think they might be overcompensating a bit. People grieve in different ways,” Hermione said.

“Should I ask them if they want to skip Patronuses and work on something else?” Harry asked her.

“I don't think singling them out will help them. Treating them differently would likely make it worse, since it would keep the memory of their father's death in the forefront of their minds,” she said slowly.

“It's not like they're going to forget, though,” Draco pointed out.

“This sucks. I feel like I'm just rubbing it in their faces, that they're too upset to think of happy things,” Harry said miserably.

“You're not,” Draco said firmly.

“Everyone's been clamouring to learn Patronuses. If you put it off you'd have to lie about why you were doing it,” Hermione said gently.

Harry ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah, I guess.”

“She's right. Take Blaise, he's pretty much gotten over Giovanni's death,” Draco said.

Harry nodded but kept his mouth shut. As promised, he'd never told anyone about coming across Blaise crying in their dorm. He hoped Blaise would take his advice over talking to Luna.

“And Kingsley was less upset about Mr Weasley's death the last time I saw him,” Draco continued.

“He was just a friend, though, we're talking about Mr Weasley's _children_ ,” Hermione argued.

“Yes, but Kingsley found the body and had to tell Mrs Weasley her husband was dead,” Draco shot back.

“It's not the same,” Hermione retorted.

Harry ignored them and went to check the Map again. He was feeling vaguely ill and had half a mind to get a anti-nausea potion off Severus before going back to the common room. 

All of a sudden bright, sharp pain shot through his head. It felt like a localised Cruciatus, it was so strong. He lost all sense of where he was – he couldn't even see, all he knew was the pain, surely he couldn't survive this, his brain must be melting... 

Someone was laughing, so close they must be right beside him. They were laughing without drawing breath, sounding more and more unhinged the longer they laughed, but Harry wasn't scared, oh no... He was happy, happier than he'd been in _years_ , he couldn't remember the last time he'd had such good news, he was simply filled with joy -

“HARRY!”

Harry's eyes shot open when something smacked into the side of his face. He found himself lying on the floor. His glasses had fallen off, but he could make out the fuzzy images of Draco and Hermione above him. Draco had one hand on Harry's shoulder and one raised in the air, ready to slap him again. 

Harry went to ask what was going on when he realised the insane laughter was coming out of his own mouth. He snapped it shut and lay there, breathing heavily through his nose and struggling not to vomit.

“We need to get him to Pomfrey,” Hermione said, sounding completely unnerved.

Draco nodded. “Can you stand?”

Harry didn't reply, just lay there staring up with wild eyes while his scar burnt on his forehead. It took some effort to Occlude – more than it had in a long time.

“I could Levitate him,” Hermione said to Draco.

“I think we'll have to,” Draco said.

“Glasses,” Harry croaked.

Draco fumbled near Harry's head and slipped his glasses onto his face. Harry blinked and sat up, feeling another wave of nausea wash over him. Two pairs of arms quickly propped him up.

“I need to see Dad,” he said.

“But Pomfrey -” Hermione began.

“No. I need Dad. And I can walk,” Harry said stubbornly.

“Alright,” Draco said.

He and Hermione hauled Harry to his feet. He swayed once when Hermione ducked down for a second.

“Sorry!” she cried, catching his arm again. “But you dropped the Map and we need it.”

When they got to the door Draco opened it and guided Harry through, then fished the Cloak out of Harry's pocket. He threw it over the three of them, and they set off for the dungeons. It seemed to take forever to Harry, who had his lips pressed firmly together against the continuous urge to vomit.

Finally, they were standing in front of Severus' office door. Hermione knocked on it, then Draco pushed it through impatiently. Severus was sitting at his desk grading essays and frowned over in confusion at the open door until Draco pulled the Cloak off.

“What happened?” Severus asked, standing up.

“Voldemort. Something's made him really happy,” Harry said, grimacing in pain.

Severus walked over to his cupboard and pulled out a blue vial. He handed it to Harry and waited until he'd drank it all. “Are you Occluding?”

“Yeah. Do you have any anti-nausea potion?” asked Harry, trying not to gag on the pain reliever.

Severus got another bottle from the cupboard and gave that to Harry. “Sip it slowly.”

Harry nodded and did so, then sank gratefully onto one of the three chairs Severus conjured in front of his desk.

“Have you any idea of what exactly has pleased the Dark Lord?” asked Severus, sitting back down on his own seat.

“He's got good news, that's all I know. But he's happier than he's been in ages,” Harry said.

Hermione sat up straighter in her chair. “Professor, the three of us were talking. Draco and I started to argue, and then Harry just burst into laughter. It wasn't his usual laugh, though, it was high-pitched and... cold is the only way I can describe it. It gave me goosebumps. Then his eyes rolled up in his head and he collapsed on the ground. It took us about a minute to get him to respond to us.”

Severus listened to her grimly. “Did you notice anything unusual when he did?”

“You mean apart from the insane cackling?” Draco asked.

“Yes, Draco, apart from that,” Severus snapped.

Draco sat back in surprise. “He looked a bit feverish, and he was unsteady walking down here. I threw the Cloak over us so that no one would see him like this.”

Severus nodded approvingly. “Hermione?”

Hermione glanced anxiously at Harry and nodded. “It was his eyes, sir. For a moment they... they were red. Not bloodshot, but _red_.”

Harry stared at her. That certainly explained why she'd sounded so much more worried than Draco had, if she had seen that and he hadn't. Harry drank some more of the anti-nausea potion and turned to Severus expectantly.

“I need to speak to the Headmaster about this. Harry, go straight to bed and bring up your mental shield. As soon as you wake up tomorrow morning, I want you to clear your mind, and remain Occluding for as long as you can,” Severus said.

“What, all day?” Harry asked.

“Just for tomorrow. It is clear that the Dark Lord's connection with you is stronger than I'd thought, if he can incapacitate you like this when you're awake...” Severus said. “What were you doing at the time? Had you fallen asleep, or exhausted your mental defences?”

Harry shook his head. “I was wide awake. We'd just finished a DA meeting. Everyone else had left and the three of us were talking about the progress of some members.”

Severus nodded and thought this over. “How long do you spend clearing your mind each day?”

“Depends on the day. I clear my mind during Divination and Defence classes, but that's only three days a week. The other days I just do it before bed,” said Harry.

“Very well. In addition to this, I want you to clear your mind during Potions -”

“But I like Potions!” Harry objected.

“I am aware of that. But I want to observe how well you perform more complex tasks whilst clearing your mind,” Severus said. “I also want you to bring up your mental shield during History of Magic classes.”

Harry stared at him in surprise. “During class?”

“Have you suddenly begun to remain awake during that class?” Severus countered.

“Right, during class,” Harry nodded. Draco snorted beside him.

Severus glowered at him, but Harry saw the corner of his mouth twitch. “And I think you should get into the habit of Occluding from the moment you wake until you finish breakfast every day. That will protect your mind until you are fully awake.”

“Okay. Do you know what's happening to me? How is he doing this?” Harry asked him.

Severus' dark eyes met his unhappily. “I don't know, not entirely. I really do need to speak to Albus. The Order will need to be put on alert straight away. Something catastrophic will have happened, or be about to happen, if the Dark Lord is as happy as you say he is.”

********

  
“Did you sleep alright? I didn't hear anything,” said Draco the next morning.

Harry nodded. “Fine. Occlumency's really good for sleeping, I'll give it that.”

Draco looked at him curiously. “How?”

“No nightmares for a start. And I use flying as my shield, so I have a lot of dreams about flying, which is fun,” Harry said with a grin.

His grin faded when they walked into the Great Hall and sat down across from Tracey and Theo. They'd had their heads bent over a copy of the _Daily Prophet_ , but both looked up when the boys sat down.

“Here, you'll want to read this,” Tracey said ominously.

She slid the paper over to Draco, who took it and smoothed it out between himself and Harry.

__

  
_MASS BREAKOUT FROM AZKABAN_  
_MINISTRY BELIEVES PETTIGREW IS REUNITING_  
_OLD DEATH EATERS_  


Beneath the headline were eleven black and white pictures of the escaped convicts. Harry scanned them and felt his heart sink. There, halfway along the second row, was Lucius Malfoy. He was no longer perfectly groomed like Harry remembered him; he was dishevelled, heavily stubbled, and his eyes had heavy bags underneath them. There was a caption underneath his photograph. _Lucius Malfoy, convicted of attempted murder._

Harry turned to face Draco, who was staring down at the paper, absolutely still. “You okay?”

Draco nodded stiffly. “Yes,” he said, then met Harry's gaze. “Just because he's out doesn't mean I have to see him.”

“Exactly,” Theo said supportively.

Just then Hermione sat down next to Draco. “You've seen it, then. Are you alright?” she asked anxiously.

“I'm fine,” Draco said. “And something good has come out of this. My father can hardly deny being a Death Eater now, since he's broken out with ten confirmed Death Eaters.”

“True,” Harry said, though he wasn't entirely sure having eleven more Death Eaters on the loose was worth that. He bent back over the paper to read the story.

_The Ministry of Magic has confirmed that there was a mass breakout from Azkaban in the early hours of yesterday evening. One suspected and ten confirmed Death Eaters are loose and, thus far, there have been no sightings of them. The Auror office has begun searching for the escapees in the area surrounding the prison._

_“We do not yet know how these individuals broke out of Azkaban, but we suspect the involvement of Peter Pettigrew,” said Minister for Magic, Cornelius Fudge. “We of course have prioritised their recapture, and have every confidence that we shall soon have them locked up again.”_

_“These people are all extremely dangerous. On no account should a member of the public approach them. If sighted, flee the area and contact the Department of Magical Law Enforcement immediately upon reaching safety,” added Head Auror, Rufus Scrimgeour._

_This is the third breakout in Azkaban's history; the most famous, of course, was the escape of Sirius Black in 1993. Black was unavailable when asked to give his opinion on how this breakout may have occurred._

“Pettigrew? They think he had something to do with this?” Harry snorted. “I can't see him being able to do much, not without Voldemort's help.”

Draco, Theo and Tracey all flinched at the name. Hermione rolled her eyes; having finally begun to say his name, she had little patience for anyone who was still too scared to do the same.

“I doubt they actually believe that. They just can't admit to the public that they've lost control of the Dementors,” Hermione said.

Harry tuned out the conversation and gazed around the Great Hall. He was surprised to see everyone chattering away like usual, happily oblivious to the morning's news. He knew not many students got the _Prophet_ each day like Tracey and Hermione did, but even so, he had thought that the news might have spread a little further. Some of the older students seemed to be aware of what had happened overnight; Cedric was sitting in a tense group at the Ravenclaw table with Cho, Elizabeth and a few other seventh years; at the Slytherin table, Zubeida was talking very intensely with Nerissa and Bastien, at a distance from some of the other older students.

The teachers were even unhappier up at the staff table. Dumbledore and McGonagall were deep in conversation, both ignoring their food. Sprout was reading the paper with a spoon held halfway to her mouth, dripping her breakfast onto her lap. Flitwick talking rapidly to Hooch and Sinistra, his usefully cheerful face taut with worry. Severus seemed to be getting questioned by Burbage, both of them frowning, with Severus alternating between nodding and shaking his head. Harry watched them for a moment, but whatever they were talking about was consuming enough that, for once, Severus didn't feel Harry's gaze on him. 

The unhappiest teacher, however, was Umbridge. Instead of watching the students below, waiting to catch someone misbehaving, she was staring down at her food with a very sour expression and occasionally directing glares at the other staff members. Despite the circumstances, Harry felt a stab of satisfaction at how put out she was.

“I better go,” Hermione said, jolting Harry's attention back to his friends. “Neville's just sat down at our table, and he'll want to know about this... I'll see you in class.”

She got up from the bench and Draco turned his back on her seat, glaring back down at the paper. “What a lovely family reunion,” he sneered.

“What?” asked Harry.

Draco stabbed a finger down onto the paper. “Look. My father... my aunt Bellatrix... her husband Rodolphus, and his brother Rabastan... What a shame Regulus is dead, he would have filled out the numbers nicely.”

Harry looked at each photo Draco had pointed at. The two brothers looked menacing enough, glaring and sneering from their photographs, but Bellatrix made his blood run cold. She was almost identical to her sister, Andromeda, but had none of her calm friendliness. Instead, she was sneering like her husband, but with a decidedly mad glint in her eyes. Harry thought back on what he'd been told about her by Severus and Narcissa; he could very easily imagine this woman having a fondness for causing pain.

“Did you ever meet them?” Tracey asked gently.

Draco shook his head. “I don't think so... They were imprisoned when I was a year old, so it's possible that Mother took me to meet them after I was born, but I doubt it. From all I've heard, Bellatrix is very much _not_ a baby person.”

“Well, it's not like many people are going to know you're related to them,” Harry said, offering up a weak smile.

Three incredulous faces turned towards him.

“What?” he asked.

Tracey sighed. “Sometimes I forget you grew up in the Muggle world.”

“Anyone who grew up in our world will know that, especially if they're a pure-blood. Most of us have had a lot of knowledge about family histories drummed into us,” Draco said.

Theo nodded. “Not only will people know Draco's related to them, they'll know who their victims were.” He too began pointing at the photos. “The Prewetts: they were the Weasleys' maternal uncles... the Bones family were Susan's paternal uncle and his family... the Longbottoms are Neville's parents, obviously... who else...”

“Dad always thought Mulciber and Travers were the ones who were there when my uncle and aunt were murdered,” Tracey said quietly.

Theo wrapped an arm around her shoulders and murmured something in her ear. Tracey gave him a wobbly smile and nodded.

“We're going to head up to Ancient Runes now. Coming?” Theo asked Draco.

“God, yes, I want to get out of here,” he said.

Harry grabbed him by the wrist before he could stand up. “You're nothing like them, okay? Ignore anyone who says otherwise.”

Draco just looked at him hollowly, though he smiled faintly when Harry kissed him. “I'll see you in Herbology.”

Alone at the table now, Harry pulled the _Prophet_ back towards himself and stared down at the front page, reading the crimes of the eleven escapees. He jumped slightly when Blaise sat down next to him, with Daphne, Millicent and Pansy in tow. 

Blaise laughed. “You're twitchy today.”

Harry just pushed the paper over to him.

“Oh. Oh, _fuck_.”

********

  
In Herbology, Draco was quiet while he and Harry got set up at their table. When Padma and Morag walked over to join them, Harry noticed Draco's back stiffen and his chin rise up, as if he were expecting the girls to attack him over the breakout. Instead, they both gave him sympathetic smiles.

“Bad news, isn't it?” Padma asked.

Draco blinked in surprise. “Yes, very,” he said, visibly relaxing.

“How much of what the _Daily Prophet_ reported is true, do you think?” Morag asked.

“I doubt Pettigrew was the brains behind it. I think Voldemort planned it all, and the Dementors went along with it,” Harry said.

“That would explain why there was no mention of them setting Dementors everywhere, like when Sirius Black escaped,” Morag agreed.

Draco laughed for the first time that day. “I also highly doubt Sirius was unavailable for comment. I bet he had a whole load of comments for them that they were just unable to print.”

Harry laughed too. “Sounds about right.”

The mood lightened, Harry spent the rest of Herbology trying to keep everyone's mind off the morning's news. Sprout was teaching them how to care for Screechsnap seedlings. Since Severus had the plant in their garden at home, Harry found the lesson to be rather relaxing. He was in the middle of telling the rest of his group about the first time Ladon had encountered the squeaky plant and became convinced there were baby mice hiding in the pot, when Zubeida walked into the greenhouse.

“What is it, Miss Khan?” Sprout asked, brushing some dirt off her hands. 

“I've been sent to take Draco to the Headmaster's office, Professor,” Zubeida said.

Sprout nodded briskly. “Off you go, Mr Malfoy. Your friends can tell you what you've got to do for homework.”

Draco shared a confused look with Harry, then gathered up his belongings and followed Zubeida out of the greenhouse. Harry spent the rest of the lesson wondering why Draco had been called away. It couldn't be a Prefect thing, because Pansy, Padma and Anthony were all still in class; but he couldn't be in trouble – any time he'd broken a rule, Harry was usually there with him.

He was still puzzling over this when he trudged back up to the castle with the rest of the class. They had time for a quick shower before lunch, during which Draco was still missing. Harry was starting to get worried when he walked down to Care of Magical Creatures with Blaise and Millicent. There was no sign of Draco when they got to Hagrid's cabin, and despite Hermione's assurances that he'd be fine, Harry spent most of the lesson patting a dejected Fang instead of listening to Hagrid.

As soon as the bell rang Harry took off for the castle, heading for the dorm. He now had a very bad feeling about Draco's disappearance on the day he'd found out that Lucius Malfoy had broken out of Azkaban. Harry decided to check the Marauders' Map; at least that way he could tell where Draco was. If he wasn't on the school grounds, Harry would go to see Severus.

“I solemnly swear that I am up to no good,” he muttered, tapping the Map with his wand. 

He waited impatiently while ink lines spread out across the Map. It took him a while, but he finally found the tiny dot that represented Draco. It appeared to be huddled behind the rock by the lake.

“Mischief managed,” Harry said, giving the Map another wand tap. He stuffed the Map back into the bottom of his school trunk and took a step towards the door when a thought struck him. “ _Expecto patronum_.” His fawn materialised and watched him expectantly. “For Hermione Granger. I've found Draco. Come meet us by the lake.”

His fawn took one bounding leap and then disappeared. Harry hurried out his dorm, heading back out into the chilly grounds. He was halfway down to the lake when he heard Hermione call his name from behind him. He waited for her to catch up to him and they walked the rest of the way together.

“Draco?” Harry called out.

There was no answer. Undeterred, Harry walked around the rock the three of usually sat next to. Draco was sitting on the ground with his arms wrapped around his knees, staring out over the lake.

“Draco?” Harry said quieter.

Draco turned to face them. His face was drawn and pale, and his eyes bloodshot.

“What happened?” Harry asked in alarm.

“Oh, you know, the usual... My father broke out of prison and tried to kill my mother. Just a normal Tuesday, really!” Draco said in a high-pitched voice.

“Oh my god,” Hermione whispered, putting a hand over her mouth.

She and Harry both sat down next to Draco. Hermione put her arm around his shoulders, while Harry wrapped his arm around his waist and took hold of one of his hands. “He tried to kill your mum?” Harry asked.

Draco took a deep breath. “That's why I was pulled out of Herbology. Mother had come here to tell me about it, before I could read about it in the _Evening Prophet_.”

“But she's all right, isn't she?” Hermione asked.

Draco nodded jerkily. “A little shaken, but mostly she's just pissed off.”

“What exactly happened?” asked Hermione.

“Well, after we left his office last night, Snape told Dumbledore about what had happened to Harry. Dumbledore put the Order on alert for Death Eater activity, but no one found anything. It wasn't until Gemma was called back in to work late at night that anyone in the Order found out about the breakout. Gemma immediately got in contact with Remus at Grimmauld Place.”

Draco paused and took another deep breath before continuing. “As soon as she heard the news, Mother returned home. She freed every single one of the house-elves -”

“She freed all the house-elves?” Hermione interjected. Harry glared at her. “Sorry.”

“They didn't take it well. Most of them burst into tears when she gave them clothes – you remember when Crouch freed Winky?” Draco asked. Harry and Hermione both nodded. “Like that, only with a lot more elves. It took a while before Mother could get them all to shut up long enough to get herself heard. She told them she could either re-enslave them, hire them as free elves like she did with Dobby, or they could go out into the world free. They all chose to get re-enslaved by her.”

“They chose that?” Hermione asked.

“Yes. According to Mother, Tilly in particular was really offended that Mother even asked her,” said Draco.

“Was that so your dad couldn't use them?” asked Harry, trying to get back on track.

Draco nodded. “Mother had put some wards up at home, to prevent my father from getting onto the property, but as it comes from his family, nothing would hold him out forever. Sooner or later the wards would recognise him as the rightful owner and let him in.”

“So she'd taken all the elves and slowed him down from getting inside... What'd she do then?” asked Harry.

“She stripped the place. Mother had the elves start on what belongs to herself and me. They just packed it all up and took it all over to Grimmauld Place. When they'd finished with our personal possessions, Mother had them start on the library. They were in the middle of working on getting anything useful out of my father's study when he got home.”

Draco's voice faltered at that. Harry squeezed his hand gently, and Hermione rubbed his back soothingly.

“What did he do?” she asked.

“He attacked her,” Draco said, his voice hardening. “Most of the elves had left by then, and she ordered the ones who were still there to leave immediately, but Dobby stayed by Mother's side when my father burst into the room. He didn't appear that dangerous to begin with, she said. Azkaban has definitely taken a toll on him. She said he was thinner than before he was arrested, and he looked like he'd aged a decade, but he appeared sane, if a little disoriented.”

“Appeared sane?” Hermione echoed.

Draco pursed his lips. “They had a sort of stand off, just staring at each other for a minute, before Mother again told Dobby to get out of there. For some reason that set my father off.”

“He attacked her because of Dobby?” asked Harry.

“He said something about Mother valuing house-elves and Mudbloods – his words, Hermione, sorry – above himself. He said he was going to re-educate her, make her remember how a true pure-blood should see the world. And that if she refused to obey him, he'd use force.”

Draco sniffed and took another deep breath. “She did refuse, naturally. She told him she had no intention of allowing his bigotry back into her life, or to mine. That's when he cracked it. Said that she's ruined me and that she'd pay for it. When he pulled out his wand she tried to bluff. Told him Kingsley and Sirius would be there any moment. He actually laughed at that. Told her that Bellatrix was on her way, too.”

“Was she?” asked Harry.

“I've no idea. Mother didn't stick around after that. They got into a fight, and she realised that he was out to kill her,” Draco said, then smiled grimly. “She sent a few curses at him, set the study on fire as a distraction, and jumped out of the window. She didn't know if the elves had taken all the Floo powder or not, so she had to get to the gates where she could Disapparate. Then the sodding peacocks tried to ambush her on her way down the drive so she cursed all of them, too, before she was finally able to get away.”

Harry and Hermione were both gaping at him by this point. 

“She got to Grimmauld Place and told everyone what had happened, but by the time they went to the Manor, my father had put up his own wards, sealing everyone out. So now Mother's holed up at Grimmauld Place with Sirius and Remus and two dozen house-elves. I'll be joining her there over summer, and I suppose Theo will, too.”

“At least she had somewhere to go. And she and all the elves are safe,” Hermione said soothingly.

Draco nodded. “Yes, I know. I just... I always dreaded my father getting out of Azkaban. I knew nothing good would come of it, but I didn't think it would be this bad. Mother nearly died and we've lost our home.”

“But you're both safe now, which is the main thing,” Hermione said.

“True... And one good thing has come out of this. Mother's finally getting divorced.”

“Why's it taken her this long?” asked Harry.

Draco shrugged. “I'm not sure exactly. Some legal thing about money or the Manor... That's what she said, but I think she sort of saw getting divorced as having failed at marriage. Like that's _her_ fault! Anyway, she's going back to her maiden name now. As am I.”

“You're changing your name to Black?” Harry asked.

“Yes. I want nothing to do with my father. It's bad enough that I look like him, I don't need to keep his name. I'm keeping my middle name, though. It was my grandfather's, and he was always nice to me,” Draco said.

“Draco Abraxas Black...” Hermione said experimentally, then smiled. “I like it.”

“Me too,” said Harry.

Draco smiled. “Thanks, guys.”

Hermione rubbed his arm. “What are friends for?”

“Sneaking down into the kitchens to get some sweets with me?” Draco asked hopefully. “I'm dying for something sweet.”

Harry stood up at once, pulling Draco with him. “You mean you listened to all this and you haven't had any sugar yet? Not even one measly little Chocolate Frog? You?”

Hermione snorted as she stood up.

Draco shot her what could only be called a fond glare. “No, I haven't. Dumbledore offered Mother and me some lemon drops before he left his office, but they were sorely lacking. I didn't think it possible that his taste in sweets could be worse than his taste in clothing.”


	24. In Which the DA Work on Patronuses and the Blacks Speak to the Media

The next few days weren't fun for Draco or Tracey. The news about the Death Eater escapees had finally gotten around the student body, and anyone related to their past victims was suddenly finding themselves besieged with questions about events most of them had no memory of. To avoid being questioned by people she'd never spoken to, Tracey took to spending even more time in the library, where Pince's dour presence and piercing glares were enough to ensure that no one spoke unnecessarily.

“But Draco's taking it better, now that the shock's warn off,” Harry said over Sunday dinner. “I think he's beginning to enjoy bragging about Narcissa getting one over Lucius, actually.” 

Severus nodded. “Good to hear. The other Heads of House are, naturally, equally concerned about some of their own students -”

“But they're not allowed to talk to them about it?” Harry guessed. 

Another decree had been posted in the common rooms on Wednesday. Teachers were no longer allowed to talk to students about anything not directly related to the subjects they taught.

Severus' mouth twisted with displeasure. “Precisely.”

“I can't wait until the curse kicks in and something awful happens to Umbridge,” Harry said darkly.

“There's no curse, Harry,” Severus snapped.

Harry raised his eyebrows doubtfully, but changed the subject. 

After dinner they walked out of Severus' quarters together. Harry was heading back to the common room, while Severus was going to his office. They rounded the corner and found Umbridge waiting outside Severus' office, writing something on her clipboard. She looked up when she heard her footsteps and smiled unpleasantly.

“There you are, Mr Potter,” she simpered. “I noticed you weren't at dinner and became concerned.”

“He is fine, as you can see,” Severus said guardedly.

Umbridge ignored him. “Where have you been, Mr Potter?”

“Having dinner with my dad,” Harry said uneasily.

“I see. You are aware, of course, of the latest Educational Decree? Teachers are not permitted to talk to students about anything not directly related to the subjects which they teach.”

Severus put a hand on Harry's shoulder. “He is my son. You cannot forbid us from speaking to one another, not unless you were to forbid every other student from communicating with their parents.”

“You wish for Mr Potter to be treated the same as the rest of his cohort?” Umbridge asked. Harry didn't like the gleam in her eyes.

“Yes, I do,” Severus said.

“Very well then. Mr Potter, you are to attend dinners in the Great Hall, the same as every other student here. No one else is allowed to have fortnightly dinners with _their_ parents,” Umbridge said.

Severus' hand tightened momentarily on Harry's shoulder. “As you wish, Professor Umbridge.”

Umbridge smiled. “Thank you for your cooperation, Professor Snape. Mr Potter, you had best get to your common room. You don't want to get detention for being out after curfew.”

“Yes, Professor,” Harry said. “Goodnight, Dad.”

He walked off seething. Umbridge had clearly come down just to put an end to Harry having dinner with Severus out of pure spite. 

When he got into the common room he got his Astronomy homework out of his room and joined Draco, Pansy and Millicent on some chairs near one of the windows. Harry set his essay out on his lap, turned his back on Daphne and Adrian, who were snogging nearby, then stared moodily out at the bottom of the lake.

“Everything alright?” Draco asked.

“The sodding toad's banned me from having dinner with Dad while we're at school,” Harry groused. “Said I have to have dinner in the Great Hall like everyone else. Obviously I can just use my Cloak if I need to see him, but that means sneaking around...”

“Guess we can't visit Hagrid anymore then, either,” Draco said.

Harry scowled; he hadn't thought of this. “Yeah, I guess so. I don't care what Dad says about it, I can't wait for the curse to kick in and get rid of her.”

“Mmm,” Pansy said dreamily. “Maybe she could get turned into an actual toad...”

“And spend the rest of her life in a swamp,” Millicent chimed in.

Draco rolled his eyes. “Or we could actually do something about it ourselves.”

Harry and girls leaned in closer. “Like what?” asked Millicent.

Draco shrugged. “I don't know. I'm sure we can think of something.”

“I'm not doing anything that could get Dad sacked,” Harry said.

“We can work around that,” Draco said with a smirk.

********

  
The day after he was banned from having Sunday dinners with Severus, Harry found out that Hagrid was now also on probation. Every single Divination and Care of Magical Creatures class was now being inspected by Umbridge. Even with Hagrid now following a strict lesson plan set out for him by Hermione, Harry was still worried he'd be sacked. While he didn't expose the class to any new monsters, he did have a nasty habit of getting flustered by Umbridge's snide comments and would lose the thread of what he was telling the class.

It was the final straw for Harry, who decided to put into action one of the pranks Sirius had suggested to him over Christmas. That night, he, Draco and Pansy used the Invisibility Cloak and Marauders' Map to creep up to the storeroom next to the Charms classroom. Pansy unlocked the door, and pulled it open to reveal the well-stocked room in which Flitwick kept all the equipment and animals he used in his classes.

“Jackpot,” Pansy breathed, stepping over the threshold.

The shelves inside were crowded with all manner of things, from feathers and teacups to grandfather clocks and what looked like broken classroom furniture. Harry had had no idea the room was so large when he had suggested this plan earlier that evening.

“Down there,” Draco said, pointing.

The three teenagers walked to the back of the room, where the animals were kept. Harry checked the Map one last time for anyone unfriendly who might be lurking nearby, then pulled off the Cloak and shoved it into his pocket.

“We better hurry,” he said.

They did so, working quickly but quietly to transfer their cargo down the corridor to the Defence classroom. It took them a few trips, but they finally had Flitwick's entire stock of frogs inside the room. They had used Freezing Charms on the frogs, so that they would keep quiet for the trip and wouldn't escape, and the room now looked as if it had a very ugly, very lumpy green carpet.

Pansy raised her wand to begin unfreezing the frogs, but Harry held up his hand. “One last thing.”

He walked carefully over to the blackboard, wiped it clean, and drew the largest, ugliest toad he could. He added a bow on the top of its head, and a speech bubble coming out of its mouth, with the words “hem, hem” inside it. “ _Animare toad_.” The chalk toad began hopping around the blackboard, emitting more speech bubbles as it went.

“Brilliant,” Pansy said. “Now let's go.”

The three of them unfroze all the frogs, which immediately began to explore their new home. Harry got out the Cloak again, threw it over himself, Draco and Pansy, and with the aid of the Map, retreated back to the Slytherin common room undiscovered.

Millicent was waiting up for them, the only person in the room. “Everything go okay?” she asked. 

“Perfectly,” Pansy declared, emerging out from under the Cloak. “Let's go celebrate.”

The girls headed off to their dorm, leaving the boys to make their way to their own. They stopped outside the door and Harry knelt down in front of it.

“ _All clear?_ ” he hissed through the crack.

“ _They're both asleep_ ,” Ladon replied.

Draco eased the door open and walked in. Harry picked up Ladon from his lookout spot next to the door, and followed Draco over to his bed.

“ _This was fun_ ,” he said, leaning in for a kiss.

“ _Mmm_ ,” Draco replied. “ _We definitely need to do it again_.”

Harry nodded. “ _And use my mirror to talk to Sirius. He's going to be so proud_.”

********

  
The next morning the school had an all too brief day of entertainment when Umbridge dealt with the frogs in her classroom. Her first class of the day, second year Hufflepuffs, had walked into her classroom, dreading another boring lesson. To their very great surprise they found Umbridge rushing around the room trying to round up the frogs. When Umbridge ordered one of the class to run down the corridor to Flitwick to tell him to come fetch his escaped frogs, the entire class did so, since no one fancied staying behind with Umbridge.

It didn't take long before the story spread through the school. Predictably, details were exaggerated with each telling, even by those who had been there. In Care of Magical Creatures that afternoon, Harry heard a first hand account from the Gryffindors. They had been settling into their Charms lesson that morning when the entire class of second year Hufflepuffs burst in, excitedly telling Flitwick about the frogs, and the drawing on the blackboard. Harry guessed that much was true. 

He didn't for a second believe that the frogs had been the size of labradors, or that instead of croaking, they had hopped around yelling “hem, hem,” at the top of their lungs. He doubted many other people believed those details, either, but no one let the truth get in the way of a good story. By dinner time that day, the differing versions of the morning's excitement was all anyone could talk about, making a nice change from the endless speculation about the escaped Death Eaters. Umbridge was glaringly absent from the Great Hall, and both the students and the staff spent the meal enjoyably rehashing the days' events. 

It was the last bright spot for Harry for a while. It didn't take long before the escaped Death Eaters were once again the main topic of conversation in the castle, narrowly beating out the subject of Umbridge's continuing class inspections.

Harry's one hope was that Umbridge would fire Trelawney instead of Hagrid. Trelawney was performing even worse than Hagrid was. Never the most effective of teachers, she was now near hysterical in class. Harry had even come across her in the corridors a few times, reeking of cooking sherry and twitching violently, increasing her resemblance to an insect. Pansy had entirely given up needling her in class. Instead, she sat there in uncomfortable silence with Harry and Daphne, waiting for the bell to ring so they could escape the tower classroom and the entirely one-sided battles between Trelawney and Umbridge. 

The rest of the staff were almost as tense. It was now common to see teachers huddled together in the hallways in pairs or small groups, each of them radiating a aura of strained worry. Harry never caught wind of what exactly they were discussing; the second they noticed the appearance of a student, the teachers would disperse.

The students themselves were no less tightly wound these days, as each edition of the _Daily Prophet_ brought fresh conjecture about the eleven fugitive Death Eaters. After Narcissa's escape from Malfoy Manor, there hadn't been a confirmed sighting of any of them, though that didn't stop rumours from flying around the halls of Hogwarts. The most popular rumour was that the Death Eaters were holed up in the Shrieking Shack, planning on forcing their way into Hogwarts like Sirius had done two years previously.

Harry had two escapes from all of this tension; Quidditch training and DA meetings. 

The Slytherin – Ravenclaw match was coming up at the end of February, and both teams had ramped up their training schedules. Adrian was drilling the Slytherin team three times a week, for which Harry was grateful. It was hard to be concerned about the escaped Death Eaters when he was exhausted and half-frozen from flying around the Quidditch pitch for hours in the frigid winter evenings. 

The DA was progressing well with Patronuses. Fred and George had successfully cast corporeal Patronuses – identical monkeys – as had all of the sixth years. The previous meeting had felt like being in an odd sort of zoo, where all the animals were silvery and translucent. Harry warmed with pride every time he thought about how far the group had progressed from that first lesson, wherein they had struggled with Disarming.

The first fifth year to cast a corporeal Patronus was, surprisingly, Tracey. She'd turned bright pink when Harry had loudly praised her, but didn't allow her hedgehog to flicker away. Hermione watched it with a very put out expression; even from across the room, Harry could tell how annoyed she was that it was taking her so long to learn a new spell.

Shouting drew Harry's attention to the far corner. He hurried over to find Ron and Blaise standing a foot apart from each other. Ginny was standing next to them looking between the two of them with an increasingly stormy expression on her face.

“What's going on?” Harry asked neutrally.

“Zabini keeps pawing my sister -”

“Weasley's just jealous of anyone who can get a girl -”

“ And _I_ ,” Ginny said frostily, “am trying to decide whether I want to murder my brother or my boyfriend -”

“Him!” both Blaise and Ron cried.

“- _first_ ,” Ginny finished. 

Harry took a deep breath. “Now really isn't the time. People are trying to think of happy memories, they don't need you lot distracting them. I would've thought the three of you would know more than most how hard that can be, considering, you know, that you've all lost someone this year.”

“You're right. Sorry, Harry,” Blaise mumbled.

“Yeah, sorry,” Ginny said, then elbowed Ron.

“Sorry,” he muttered.

“Maybe you should just split up for now?” Harry suggested. 

Ginny nodded. “Come on, Ron,” she said, then dragged him off to join the twins.

Harry turned to Blaise. “So you're with Ginny now?”

Blaise nodded. “I took your advice and spoke to Luna about Giovanni, and started spending a bit of time with her and Ginny and... She knows what it's like. They both do, actually. It's nice.”

Harry ran a hand through his hair. “I know you're usually nice to the girls you date, but -”

“I'm not using her,” Blaise interrupted. “Well, no more than she's using me, anyway. But I'm not going to hurt her. Trust me. Not that I'd want to, but Ginny would kill me, and if she didn't, then Scarlett would.”

“I didn't mean to suggest -”

“Yes, you did. And it's okay: I get it. But you don't know what you're on about. Stick to teaching defence, Potter,” Blaise said. 

He clapped Harry on the shoulder and walked off to join Theo and Tracey. Harry watched him go, grinning to himself when he saw a raccoon emerge from Theo's wand. A peal of laughter made Harry turn around to find Daphne giggling, her own attempts at the spell forgotten as she watched Pansy's bulldog jumping up at Millicent's bear, which was swatting it away.

“This is the best thing I've ever seen. It's exactly how you flirt with each other,” she gasped.

Harry raised an eyebrow at her. “You're supposed to be concentrating on your own Patronus, Greengrass.”

Daphne watched the Patronuses for a few more seconds, then grinned. “ _Expecto patronum!_ ” She clapped her hands when a squirrel burst out of her wand. “It's adorable!”

“Good work, all of you,” Harry said, moving on.

He found Draco, Hermione and Neville standing in a loose circle with a magpie fluttering above Hermione's head.

“Fantastic, Hermione!” Harry said enthusiastically. 

She beamed at him. “Thanks!”

“ _Expecto patronum_ ,” said Neville. “ _Expecto patronum!_ ”

As Neville continued to attempt the spell, Draco turned to Hermione. “I wouldn't have thought yours would be a bird.”

“What were you expecting?” Hermione asked, watching the magpie dart around. 

“I don't know... Something with bushy hair – OW!” Draco rubbed the arm Hermione had just hit.

“You deserved it,” she told him.

Draco's reply was cut off by a round silvery animal waddling between himself and Hermione. They turned to find Neville staring wide-eyed at his Patronus.

“I can't believe I did it,” he said faintly.

“I knew you could,” Harry said.

“What is it?” Neville asked after a moment.

Draco tilted his head. “A really fat badger?”

Neville looked at his Patronus doubtfully. “It doesn't look like Cedric's badger...”

Hermione huffed. “It's a wombat. They're from Australia.”

“I've never heard of them. How can my Patronus be something I've never heard of?” Neville demanded.

“Dunno. I can ask Dad if you want,” Harry offered.

“Don't bother. I'm just glad I finally did it!” Neville said, beaming at him.

“Rub it in some more, Longbottom,” Draco grouched.

“Just keep trying, you'll get it soon enough,” Harry said.

Draco bit his lip. “Maybe I can't do it because my father's a Death Eater,” he said quietly.

“My dad can cast one despite the fact that he _was_ a Death Eater,” Harry reminded him. “Why don't you try a different memory?”

“What memory did you use, the first time?” asked Draco.

Harry had to think about that. “Er, the night Dad saved me from the basilisk. How I wasn't possessed anymore, and it felt like I was seeing you all for the first time in months. Hermione got un-Petrified and apart from getting Peeves to mess with Lockhart, you didn't leave my side all night.”

“And my father was arrested...” Draco said, smiling dreamily, before his eyes snapped back into focus. “You liked me back then!”

“I was confused,” Harry conceded.

“Pfft. You had a crush on me,” Draco said in a sing-song voice.

“I have a crush on you _now_ , you git. If you want to keep it that way, you'll cast the sodding spell, Black,” Harry said.

Draco smirked at him. “ _Expecto patronum_ ,” he said, then gasped. “I did it! I – oh, no, no...”

His silvery ferret faded out of existence as he watched it in dismay. There was a heavy silence as he looked around at Harry, Neville and Hermione, all of whom were struggling not to laugh.

“That was _not_ what you all think it was,” Draco finally said.

Both Hermione and Neville let out small sniggers at that, though they quickly smothered them.

“It was a ferret,” Harry choked out, willing himself not to laugh.

“No, it wasn't. That was clearly a Jarvey,” Draco said.

“That's still a ferret,” Hermione pointed out.

“No, it's not! They're much bigger and they can bloody well talk!” Draco snapped. “Face it: I'm the only person here who has a magical creature for a Patronus, and you're all jealous.”

“If you say so,” Neville said unconvincingly.

“Just because you didn't recognise your Patronus form doesn't mean I can't recognise mine,” Draco said.

Harry held his hands up. “Okay, okay, it's a Jarvey. Happy?” 

Draco nodded stiffly. “Just as long as we're clear it's not a ferret.”

********

  
During breakfast on the last Monday of January, Luna wandered over to the Slytherin table and sat down between Draco and Daphne.

“You get a much better view of the Great Hall from here than we do at our table,” she remarked, gazing around the room.

“Er, I guess,” Daphne said.

“And you're a nice distance from the Wrackspurts floating around at the Gryffindor table,” Luna added.

“Is that why you're here? To get further away from them?” asked Daphne.

“What? Oh, no,” Luna said. She shook her head and seemed surprised to find all the surrounding Slytherins staring at her in confusion. “I came to talk to Draco. Daddy sent me the February issue of _The Quibbler_ to give to you.”

Draco took a rolled up magazine off her. “Why?”

“He's the editor,” Luna said, helping herself to a muffin.

Draco blinked at her then, when it became apparent that no further explanation would be forthcoming, unrolled the magazine. He looked at the front cover and gasped when he saw Narcissa staring up at him unhappily from beneath a bright green headline:

  
_MINISTRY LIES NEARLY KILLED ME_  
_Black speaks exclusively to Rita Skeeter_  
_about the night she was nearly murdered_  


Draco hurriedly flipped through the magazine until he got to the story. Harry read over his shoulder.

 _Wizarding Britain may be living in fear of the eleven Azkaban escapees, but for one woman, the fear is personal – and all too real. On the night of 13th January, hours after the infamous breakout occurred, Lucius Malfoy returned to his Wiltshire manor and brutally attacked his wife, causing her to flee for her life._

_“I'm sorry we have to meet like this, but I no longer feel comfortable telling anyone where I'm living,” says Narcissa Black. Her voice is shaky and there are tears in her eyes as she keeps a firm hold on the arm of her cousin, Sirius Black. “And I daren't leave the house alone. Not after the attack.”_

_We're sitting in a small pub in a village in Hertfordshire, where Ms Black has agreed to meet me. The Blacks were already there when I arrived, half-hidden in a corner booth. After exchanging greetings, Mr Black sets up a series of privacy charms before Ms Black consents to speak. Her distinctive platinum hair is bundled up under a headscarf, and she shrinks into her seat at any loud noise._

_“I was at home alone when it happened,” she begins quietly, hands wrapped around a cup of tea. “I'd taken my son, Draco, and a friend of his to the station the day before, to return to Hogwarts. When I think of what could have happened to them, if they'd been at home...”_

_She dabs at her eyes with a handkerchief and continued. “I was preparing to retire to bed when I heard a noise in Lucius' study. I went to investigate, thinking perhaps one of our house-elves had gone in there against their orders. I never thought that Lucius would – would -”_

_Ms Black begins sobbing as the memories of that terrifying night resurface. Mr Black comforts her, whispering something that this reporter is unable to make out, but it is some time before she is able to continue her story._

_"I tried to reason with him, to occupy him long enough to get out of there, but he attacked before I had the chance. I hid behind the desk while he threw curse after curse at me. One of them ricocheted and sparked a fire. Lucius was between me and the door, so I had to climb out of the window in order to escape. I ran to the gates, to the edge of the property wards, and managed to Apparate to Sirius' home without Lucius following me.”_

_When I asked what the Ministry's response to this attack was, Ms Black's gaze hardens. “What response?”_

_Mr Black spoke up for the first time that day. “No one at the Ministry will speak to us. Both Narcissa's partner and our niece are Aurors – they've been re-assigned, away from searching for the escapees. Apparently, the Ministry values keeping us in the dark more than they value catching eleven escaped Death Eaters. Bit different than it was two and half years ago.”_

_Mr Black was, of course, referring to his own break out from Azkaban, in the summer of 1993. He was the first inmate to ever achieve the feat – surely he must have some insight into how this latest break out may have occurred?_

_“Sure I do. The Dementors have all joined [You-Know-Who],” Mr Black said._

_Ms Black nodded her agreement. “It's the only explanation. How else could they have done it?”_

_They didn't think that the escapees could have engineered their own escape, as Mr Black had done?_

_“I was only able to do that because I'm an Animagus, something the Ministry was unaware of while I was imprisoned. Are you trying to say that there are more unregistered Animagi?”_

_Clearly that is a ridiculous notion. Ms Black's smile tells me she agrees with me on this topic. But still – could they not have had outside help?_

_“Of course they had outside help. [You-Know-Who] convinced the Dementors to join him, and probably just told them which cells to open,” said Mr Black._

_“If the Dementors haven't abandoned the Ministry for You-Know-Who, why aren't they being posted around Hogsmeade and Diagon Alley for our protection?” asked Ms Black, shivering with fear. “When Sirius escaped, the Dementors were deployed to protect us. Why is it different this time?”_

_“I'm not that intimidating,” Mr Black jested._

_I mentioned Peter Pettigrew, Mr Black laughed. “He might've been involved, but trust me, he's not smart enough to pull this off. Not without [You-Know-Who] giving him orders.”_

Harry stopped reading there, as the conversation devolved into the same old argument about whether or not Voldemort was really back. 

“This is brilliant,” he said, beaming at Draco and Luna.

Draco didn't reply, too busy reading the rest of the interview. Luna nodded. “Yes, Daddy's very happy with it. It fits in well with the rest of the stories he's run exposing the Ministry's corruption.”

Pansy leaned over the table. “How the hell did you get Skeeter to do this? Mum's been going on for ages about how weird it is that she's only been covering the Wizengamot lately. Plus I thought your uncle hated her, Draco. I saw him threaten her last year!”

“Maybe she owes Mother a favour,” Draco said, looking up and closing the magazine with satisfaction. “And Sirius was clearly there because Mother's too scared to go out in public alone.”

“Really?” Theo asked sceptically.

“She says she is in this,” Draco said, gesturing at the magazine with a smirk.

Theo smirked back before a panicked expression crossed his face. “Toad alert!”

It was too late to hide the magazine from Umbridge. She'd walked up the aisle between the Slytherin and Ravenclaw tables, and was holding out one stubby-fingered hand.

“I'll be taking this, Mr Malfoy,” she said.

“It's _Black_ , Professor,” Draco said, handing over the magazine.

“Oh, yes, how silly of me to forget,” Umbridge said with faux sincerity. She gazed down at the front cover and read the headline with barely concealed rage. “Well, then, Mr Black. Fifty points from Slytherin, and detention tonight. And fifty points from Ravenclaw, Miss Lovegood. You will join Mr Black in detention. My office at five o'clock.”

“What for?” Harry asked angrily.

Umbridge smiled sweetly. “It is against the rules for students to sit at another house's table. Miss Lovegood should not be sitting here, and Mr Black should have warned her against the transgression.”

With that, she turned and marched out of the Great Hall, _The Quibbler_ crushed in her fist.

“That is such a load of bullshit,” Millicent growled.

“You both got off easier than when I gave an interview,” Harry grumbled. “Although she was harder on you, Luna, than she was on Pansy...”

“She probably regrets not punishing me, and is taking it out on you. Sorry,” Pansy said to Luna.

Luna just shrugged. “I don't mind. I've never had detention before, this should be interesting.”

“How can you have never had detention before?” Blaise demanded.

“It's not that hard,” Tracey muttered. “Just don't break the rules.”

“Oh, I break the rules. I just don't get caught,” Luna said airily. She looked around herself and her eyes widened even further than usual. “I've just insulted your Slytherin cunning, haven't I? Don't worry, I'm not sneakier than any of you. It's all just because the Blibbering Humdingers like me so much.”

She got to her feet and wandered away. There was a second of slightly confused silence before Blaise jumped to his feet.

“How do I get these Blubbering Humbugs to like me, too?” he called, chasing after her.

********

  
Harry spent his evening completing his Potions homework and waiting for Draco to get back from his detention. After what he'd gone through during his own detentions this year, he was fretting about what Umbridge might make Draco do. He was therefore rather surprised when Draco walked in just before nine, with a cheerful smile on his face.

“You look like you enjoyed detention,” Harry said in confusion.

Draco laughed. “I did, actually. Umbridge gave me newspaper articles to copy out, like she did with you. Only mine were all about my father's arrest. I guess she assumed I wouldn't want to be reminded of him, but she miscalculated. I very much enjoyed reading about his trial.” 

“What about Luna?” Harry asked, making room on his bed so that Draco could join him.

“She got rude letters people had written in to her father. Apparently he has a policy of publishing all feedback, in the interest of presenting all the facts,” Draco said, pulling a face at the thought. “In any case, she's read some of them before, so she wasn't too fussed. And she seemed to still be fascinated by the concept of detention.”

“Huh,” Harry said. “Well, I'd planned on having to cheer you up, but now I guess I don't have to...”

Draco leered at him. “Oh, you can still cheer me up.”

“I didn't mean like that,” Harry said. He pulled the curtains shut and pulled out his two-way mirror from under his discarded essay.

“Your magic mirror? Can't I have a blow job instead?” Draco whined.

Harry ignored him. “Sirius Black,” he said clearly.

He angled the mirror so that both he and Draco would appear in it, then waited. Sirius must have had his mirror handy this time, because his face appeared in the glass after only a few seconds. 

“Hello, boys! I take it you've heard about the interview?” said Sirius.

“Yeah, Luna gave Draco a copy at breakfast,” Harry said.

“Is Mother there?” Draco asked.

Sirius nodded. “I'll go get her.”

The view in the mirror shifted from Sirius' face to a long column of black material. When it swung back and forth, Harry realised that Sirius was holding the mirror down by his side while he went to find Narcissa. Looking away from the slightly dizzying view, Harry smiled at Draco. “You can always borrow this if you want to talk to your mum. I'm sure Sirius wouldn't mind.”

“That depends on how often he wants to talk to her,” Sirius said, lifting the mirror up again. “I'm not doing this for you every night, Draco.”

“It wouldn't be every night,” Draco scoffed.

“You say that now,” Sirius said darkly, making Harry snigger. He stopped when Draco poked him in his ribs.

“Like you can talk? You're the one using your Invisibility Cloak to sneak around the dungeons so you can have tea with your father,” Draco said.

“Why do you have to sneak around?” Sirius asked.

“The toad's banned me from having dinner with him in his quarters, but I need to be able to see him for Occlumency lessons,” Harry explained.

“Ugh, Occlumency with Snape...” Sirius muttered.

“Sirius,” Harry said warningly.

“Yeah, yeah...” Sirius sighed. 

There was a creak as he pushed open a door. A few seconds later he dropped down onto a sofa next to Narcissa.

“Draco wants to talk to you,” he said.

Narcissa looked at him as if he'd gone mad. “What are you – oh, hello, boys!” she said, catching sight of the mirror.

“Hello, Mother. That was a great interview. Very convincing,” Draco said.

Narcissa and Sirius both laughed. “It was a lot of fun. I've never played a damsel in distress before,” Narcissa said.

“The best part was Skeeter's face when she caught sight of me,” Sirius said.

“I can't believe you didn't tell me about it,” Draco said.

“I've told you that we need to be careful what we put into writing,” Narcissa said reproachfully.

“Yes, I know. But you could've used these mirrors to give me some warning,” Draco complained.

“I was protecting you, darling,” Narcissa said.

Draco shrugged. “Didn't work, though. Umbridge still gave Luna and me detention because of it.”

Narcissa frowned. “On what grounds? You had nothing to do with it.”

“It was obviously because you gave the interview, and her father's the one who published it, though she claimed it was for letting Luna sit at our table during breakfast,” Draco said.

“What about you?” Sirius asked Harry.

“Didn't say anything to me,” Harry said.

“I'm sorry, darling,” Narcissa said.

Draco just grinned. “Don't be. All the other teachers I've had today have been giving me random points to make up for what she took, and the articles I had to copy out for detention were about Father's arrest. It was the most enjoyable detention I've ever had.”

Sirius threw his head back with his bark like laugh. “I thought Slytherins were supposed to be better about not getting caught.”

“ _I_ never had detention in my life,” Narcissa said smugly.

“It's hardly our fault that Umbridge is out to get us,” Harry pointed out.

“At least all of my detentions were earned on my own merits,” Sirius said.

“Well, hopefully she doesn't give us detention for anything we actually do,” said Draco.

Narcissa narrowed her eyes. “What have you got planned?”

“Nothing,” Draco said quickly. Too quickly.

“Draco, whatever you have planned, don't do it. You cannot risk drawing Umbridge's anger upon you any more than you already have,” Narcissa said sternly.

“What, like giving an interview where I insult half the Ministry?” Draco asked sulkily.

“We didn't think she'd go after you over that,” said Sirius.

“But that doesn't change the fact that you shouldn't be plotting against her,” said Narcissa.

“Are you saying we should stop the DA?” Harry asked indignantly.

“No, of course not. Learning to defend yourselves is important, and you've taken precautions to ensure the secrecy of your group. Just don't do anything else. Right, Sirius?” Narcissa looked pointedly at her cousin.

Sirius nodded emphatically. “Narcissa's right, boys. Leave it up to us adults.”

The second Narcissa turned her attention away from Sirius, however, he winked at the boys. They all chatted for a few more minutes, before the boys cut the connection in order to do their homework. 

“Why are you grinning like that?” Harry asked Draco.

Draco looked at him with a wicked glint in his eyes. “Because we have Sirius backing us on whatever we end up doing. Didn't you see him winking?”

Harry's eyebrows shot up. “You're going with what Sirius wants over what your mum wants?”

“Yes, because he agrees with me. Besides, I don't always do what she tells me to,” Draco sniffed. 

Harry didn't say anything further, but he couldn't help feeling uneasy at the prospect of Draco blatantly going against Narcissa's wishes like this. It would be like Hermione skipping class or Severus wearing bright yellow; completely unnatural and probably a sign of some impending disaster.


	25. In Which a Boggart is Found and Umbridge Gets Her First Sacking

As February progressed, Harry found himself busier than ever. The fifth years were getting more and more homework in the lead up to their OWLs in June. On top of that, Harry also had DA meetings, Quidditch practise, and Occlumency lessons with Severus. These last served to increase his resentment towards Umbridge; if Harry was going to use his Cloak to sneak around the dungeons, then he should be getting something far more enjoyable out of it than an endless series of Legilimency attacks.

And so Harry joined Draco, and many of their other friends, in carrying out more of Sirius' prank ideas. 

Millicent tagged along when they broke into a greenhouse to steal a large amount of fertiliser, which they hid throughout Umbridge's office. It took her and Filch three days to clean out the last of it. 

Theo and Tracey helped Harry and Draco Levitate all of the Defence classroom furniture to the ceiling, and use Permanent Sticking Charms to keep it there. They may have had to spend a week's worth of lessons sitting on the cold stone floor, but Harry felt it was worth it every time Umbridge glared up at the desks above.

Daphne came up with the idea of stealing all of the ghastly kitten plates from Umbridge's office, while Blaise wanted to scatter them into the Forbidden Forest. Draco immediately scotched that last part – after the difficulties he'd faced sneaking down to visit Hagrid with Harry and Hermione, Draco had no wish to try sneaking out of the castle with Harry, Daphne and Blaise. As a compromise, the four of them trekked up to the Astronomy Tower and pitched the plates off from there. It had caused an awful racket when they smashed on the ground below, of course, but thanks to the existence of the secret passage to the dungeons, they were safely back in their dorms within a matter of minutes.

Harry was very happy with this series of pranks, but Draco felt they could do better. His plans for future pranks had to be put on hold for the time being though, as he joined the rest of the Quidditch team in training for their upcoming match.

Slytherin had a decent win over Ravenclaw, putting them in the lead for the Quidditch Cup, until Hufflepuff came along and absolutely flattened Gryffindor. This essentially meant that the winning house would be determined in the Slytherin – Hufflepuff match in May. Neither Gryffindor nor Ravenclaw had much chance of scoring high enough to win the cup, so their match, to be played a fortnight after the other, would be a battle to stay out of last place. Needless to say, this caused some tension between the various Quidditch players in the DA for a few weeks. 

Everyone forgot about Quidditch, however, when Harry announced that he was going to track down a Boggart and bring it to a DA meeting. He'd been on the look out for one for a while now. After practising for two months, everyone was now capable of producing a corporeal Patronus, even the two youngest members, Malcolm and Dennis, so Harry had asked Severus to let him know if a Boggart turned up in the castle. 

Which is why, in early March, Harry and Hermione found themselves sneaking up to the Charms classroom to meet Severus at midnight. 

They found him pacing the corridor, under the guise of patrolling for errant students. Harry and Hermione had walked up under the Cloak, both of them keeping an eye on the Map for Umbridge, Filch or Mrs Norris.

“One of you is scuffing your feet, I could hear you from around the corner,” Severus whispered.

“Sorry, sir, I was watching the Map,” Hermione replied.

“If you cannot accomplish that whilst lifting your feet, leave the Map to Harry,” said Severus.

“Dad, come on, she hasn't had as much experience under this thing as Draco and I have,” Harry protested.

“You need to be more careful,” Severus said, though his tone was milder. 

He unlocked the classroom door with his wand and ushered them both inside, then locked and warded it. He lit a few candles, which provided enough light for them to see by, but not enough to spill out into the corridor. Harry pulled the Cloak off and stuffed it into one of his pockets, then followed Severus over to a small cabinet behind Flitwick's desk. The cabinet began to shake at their approach.

“Flitwick won't mind us taking the whole thing?” Harry asked.

Severus shook his head. “I told the rest of the staff that I'm experimenting with a Boggart-repelling Potion. Now step forward, we need to test this.”

“Test it?”

“We need to make sure that your Boggart is still a Dementor,” Severus explained.

“Oh, right,” Harry said. He stepped forward and nodded grimly. “Let's do it.”

Severus stepped back from the rattling cabinet, to stand next to Hermione, then flicked his wand at the cabinet door. A Dementor immediately rose up out of the cabinet, extinguishing the candles and bringing a strong wave of coldness with it. Harry stared at it as a feeling of helplessness swept over him, then remembered he had a way to combat that.

“ _Expecto patronum!_ ” he said. 

His fawn burst out of his wand and ran directly at the Dementor, driving it back into the cabinet. The door slammed shut behind it, and warmth returned to the room. 

“Good,” Severus said. He re-lit the candles and withdrew a handful of Chocolate Frogs from his pocket and handed them out. “Hermione, I understand your Boggart takes the shape of Minerva?”

“Yes, sir, at least, it did the last time I came across one,” Hermione said.

Severus nodded. “Very well. Switch places with Harry.”

Harry went to stand next to Severus and watched as McGonagall emerged from the cabinet. She straightened up to her full height and glared down at Hermione. She opened her mouth and began speaking with a vehement disgust Harry had never once heard the real McGonagall use.

“I'm sorry, Miss Granger, but I cannot allow you to sit for your OWL exams. It would be a waste of everyone's time, since there is no chance you could come close to passing anything. You are the least intelligent student I've ever had the misfortune to teach. That you are in my own house is a deep source of shame to me, and if I had my way -”

They never got a chance to hear McGonagall's threat. Severus Stunned the Boggart and forced it back into the cabinet. Hermione stared after it for a few seconds then turned around with a tight expression. 

“Still the same,” she said curtly.

“You know none of that was true, right?” asked Harry.

“Minerva always speaks most highly of you, and is proud to have you in her house,” Severus added.

Hermione blinked at him, then nodded. “Thank you.”

“Why'd we need to test Hermione's Boggart?” Harry asked, partly to change the subject and partly out of curiosity.

“Safety precaution. You will need to be the closest person to the Boggart in order to force it to assume the shape of a Dementor,” Severus told him. “If the Boggart somehow gets out of control and tries to harm a student, Hermione will be able to move forward and force it to take the shape of Minerva. In that guise, the Boggart won't actually physically harm anyone, though it could be psychologically unpleasant for Hermione.”

Hermione raised her chin. “I can do that,” she said, careful not to directly mention the DA to Severus.

“Harry, you'll need to take some chocolate to every meeting. It's too risky to ask the Hogwarts house-elves for any, in case Umbridge gets wind of it, so Narcissa will be sending extra supplies in her usual deliveries of sweets to Draco. She is, of course, unable to explain this to him in a letter, in case it were to be read by someone else,” Severus told him.

Harry nodded. “I'll let him know.”

He began to pull his Cloak out of his pocket, when Severus held up his hand.

“You can use this opportunity practise your Disillusionment Charm whilst I am here to observe you,” said Severus.

Harry swallowed nervously and faced Hermione. “ _Dissimulo_ ,” he said, tapping the top of her head with his wand.

“Ugh, that's cold,” she said. 

Harry watched with interest as she slowly turned invisible, starting with her head and running down her body.

“Worked, though,” Harry said, then ran his wand around himself. “ _Dissimulo_. Can you see us?”

Severus shook his head. “No, but I can still hear you. Make sure you walk quietly. You shan't need to use your Map if you are with me.”

With that, he levitated the cabinet over to the door. He cancelled the wards and stuck his head out into the corridor, then carefully manoeuvred the cabinet out after himself. “Hurry up,” he whispered.

Harry walked to the door and promptly bumped straight into Hermione. “Ow.”

“Hang on,” she whispered, running her hand down his arm until she caught his hand. “We'll have to stick together.”

“If you're quite done running into each other, I'd like to get this over with sometime tonight,” Severus said, sounding distinctly unimpressed. The effect was somewhat marred by the fact that he was looking at a patch of blank wall a foot to Hermione's left.

“All set,” Harry said.

Severus' eyes flicked over to peer at where Harry's voice had come from. “Follow me.”

After a few metres, Harry had already decided he didn't like Disillusionment Charms. Not when compared to his Invisibility Cloak. He couldn't see any part of himself, or of Hermione. While that made him proud of his spell casting, it was also deeply disconcerting. He couldn't help feeling that he was a little less solid than normal, a little less _there_. Most annoying, though, was the fact that he couldn't see Hermione. Unlike when they were under his Cloak, they had to hold hands or risk either bumping into each other again, or losing each other entirely.

They made quick time, though Severus kept hissing at them to be quiet. That turned out to be a good thing when they got to the sixth floor landing and came across Mrs Norris.

“Shoo, you blasted cat,” Severus said.

Harry couldn't help admiring the cat's courage when she stood her ground against Severus. She stared him straight in the eye and gave a horrible yowl that echoed around the stairs.

“Pull your Cloak over the pair of you, Filch will be here momentarily,” Severus whispered.

Harry hurriedly settled the Invisibility Cloak over himself and Hermione; he could already hear the slapping of Filch's flat feet on the stone floor. Half a minute later he came panting up the stairs. Harry and Hermione carefully crept to the edge of the staircase, still holding hands.

“Who have you caught, my sweet?” Filch crooned to Mrs Norris. He came to an abrupt stop when he caught sight of Severus, with the cabinet floating next to him. “Evening, Professor.”

“Filch, your cat is harassing me. _Again_ ,” Severus said irritably.

Mrs Norris was now ignoring Severus entirely, instead turning her bulging eyes towards Harry and Hermione. Her tail twitched as she sniffed suspiciously in their direction.

“My apologies, Professor. She must have thought she'd caught a student out of bed,” Filch said. “Nasty, sneaking little things they are.”

“Indeed,” Severus replied, “but as you can see, there are no students present. I _was_ on my way to the Ancient Runes classroom after hearing noises from that direction, but it may have just been Peeves -”

“Allow me, Professor,” Filch interrupted eagerly. “Come along, my sweet!”

With that, he took off back the way he'd come. Mrs Norris gave one last lingering sniff then bolted after him. Harry watched them go and gave a sigh of relief; beside him, he felt Hermione do the same.

“I thought you didn't mind Filch,” Harry whispered.

Severus shrugged lightly. “He has his uses, and he's not that bad towards the staff – except for Hagrid, for some reason. But I loathe that flea-bitten feline of his. She's even worse than the cat he had whilst I was a student.”

With that, he set off up the stairs. A few minutes later the three of them were standing next to the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy.

“ _Accio Invisibility Cloak_ ,” Severus said. When nothing happened, he frowned. “Let go of the Cloak, Harry.”

Harry looked at Hermione in confusion, which was pointless, since she was still under the Disillusionment Charm. “The Charm didn't work on it.”

“What do you mean, it didn't work?” Severus demanded.

Harry pulled the Cloak off and looked down at its silvery folds. “I mean, your Summoning Charm had no effect on my Cloak. Didn't feel a thing.”

“Me neither, sir,” Hermione added.

Severus was staring at the Cloak, which appeared to be floating in mid-air. “Strange... Still,” he said, looking up, “your Disillusionment Charms held up well, Harry. I think you can start teaching them to some of the older DA members, once they've managed to cast their Patronuses against the Boggart.”

Harry nodded, then cancelled the Disillusionment Charms and nodded again. “Okay. Now, to get into the Room of Requirement...”

He demonstrated it for Severus, then pulled the door open. He and Hermione walked inside and stood off to one side as Severus walked in slowly, the cabinet floating along behind him, all but forgotten.

“And this room can take any form? Provide anything you ask of it?” he asked, his eyes sweeping around the shelves of books and Dark detectors.

“Mostly,” Harry said. “It can't provide food or drink, but apart from this room, it's appeared as a Quidditch pitch, a meadow, Hermione's bedroom, the lounge at Malfoy Manor...”

“Remarkable,” Severus said softly, then gave his head a shake. He floated the cabinet to the far end of the room and set it down on the floor. “Make sure you impress upon the other students the importance of treating the Boggart carefully. You know how to fight yours,” he said to Harry, then turned to Hermione, “and yours won't endanger anyone. But from what I've heard of your Defence lessons two years ago, many of your friends will have Boggarts that could hurt or kill someone.” He paused and scowled. “I suppose Longbottom's could be safe enough, if it is unchanged.”

Harry resolutely didn't look at Hermione, for fear he'd laugh. “I'll keep that in mind.”

Severus jerked his head in a nod. “We'd best get you to your common rooms before we are discovered.”

Harry quickly stepped over to Hermione and swung the Cloak over both of them, before Severus could suggest he use Disillusionment Charms again. They walked to Gryffindor Tower then, once Hermione was safely through the portrait hole (and Harry had overheard that their current password was 'chizpurfle'), Harry walked back down to the dungeons with Severus.

“Is your Invisibility Cloak impervious to any other spells?” he asked as they crossed the Entrance Hall.

“No idea,” Harry said truthfully.

“Hmm,” Severus said.

“Is that weird?” asked Harry.

“Quite,” Severus said slowly. “You told me that it used to belong to James.”

“Yeah. Dumbledore borrowed it off him just before Mum and Dad were killed,” Harry said.

Severus didn't answer. When Harry glanced up at him, it was clear he was deep in thought. Harry rolled his eyes, secure in the knowledge that not even Severus could see that through the Cloak. 

When they got to the Slytherin common room Severus held up a hand before Harry could walk through the entranceway. “I was not exaggerating the danger this Boggart will put the DA in. You need to follow my instructions very carefully.”

Harry pulled off the Cloak and nodded. “I will. I promise.”

When he walked into his dorm he found Draco waiting up for him, reading through his Mermish book with Ladon coiled on his thigh. There was a candle burning on Draco's bedside table, but apart from that, only dim light spilled out of the almost dead fireplaces; all the other boys were fast asleep at this time of night.

“ _Took your time_.”

Harry sighed. “ _You know why you couldn't come_.”

“ _Yes, yes, I might accidentally say something to Snape about the DA and get boils all over my face. Because I'm a useless moron_ ,” Draco hissed petulantly.

“ _No, you're not. It was just too risky. Hermione has a better knowledge over what she could and couldn't say because she cast the sodding curses_ ,” Harry said.

“ _How did it go?_ ” Ladon asked diplomatically.

Harry smiled at him gratefully. “ _Really good. The Boggart is trapped in a cabinet in the Room of Requirement, waiting for out next meeting_.”

“ _Good. In that case, I'm going to sleep_ ,” Ladon said.

He slid over the edge of Draco's bed onto the floor and made his way over to Harry's bed. Harry stepped out of his way and sat down on the edge of Draco's bed. “You're not still annoyed with me, are you?”

“I'm not annoyed,” Draco said, not raising his eyes from his book.

Harry reached out and, before Draco knew what was happening, yanked the book out of his hands and tossed it onto the floor.

“I was reading that, you know,” Draco said.

“No, you were sulking,” Harry argued, throwing a leg over Draco's lap and sliding up his body.

“Was not,” Draco said.

“Were too,” Harry countered. 

He leaned over Draco and kissed him. He didn't move his lips at first, stubbornly keeping them in a pout. Eventually, however, he gave up and started kissing Harry back. When Draco wrapped his arms around Harry's waist, Harry bit Draco's lower lip until he opened his mouth and let Harry's tongue inside.

“Maybe a little,” Draco conceded when they broke for air. “But, you know, you're the one who's come back from a midnight stroll with your father and our best friend and felt the need to snog me.”

“Gross, Black,” Harry growled.

“It's true, Potter.”

“No,” Harry said, biting Draco's neck, “it's not. I came back and found my boyfriend sulking because he was told to stay here for his own bloody safety, and I thought I should try to cheer him up. I can stop and go get some sleep if you'd prefer.”

Draco gasped as Harry punctuated his words with more bites. “I'd prefer you stayed here, actually.”

“Good,” Harry said, then sat up. He pulled the bed curtains closed then leaned back over Draco and made quick work undoing his pyjama top. “Stop being a git, then.”

“I will when you stop being a prat,” Draco shot back, then choked back a moan when Harry began pressing kisses into his chest. “That's a good start.”

Harry shot him a sly glance. “I'm not finished yet.”

In a few minutes he had Draco reduced to making muffled, incoherent moans. Harry couldn't help smirking even as he bobbed his head up and down. There were many reasons why he liked sucking off Draco, he mused; breaking him out of a sulk was just the latest in a rapidly increasing list. He did that new trick with his tongue that he'd been practising, and was pleased when Draco's hips jerked up in response. He also moaned louder than he been so far. Not wanting any of their dorm mates to wake up, Harry blindly trailed a hand up Draco's torso to clamp it over his mouth. 

Draco promptly sucked two of Harry's fingers into his mouth and copied the movements of Harry's tongue. Liquid fire seemed to travel from Harry's fingertips to the rest of his body, and he couldn't help grinding himself against the mattress. 

Draco only lasted a short while before he came, his lips pressed together to stay silent. Harry crawled back up his body lay down next to him, hoping Draco would recover soon. He wasn't disappointed; in a few short minutes Harry was staring up at the ceiling, happily sated.

Draco smirked down at him. “That didn't take long.”

“Only you could go from sulky to smug so sodding quickly,” said Harry.

Draco chuckled. “Everyone has their talents. You have hair that defies all attempts to tame it, and I have interesting and dynamic mood swings.”

“Is that how you see it?” Harry laughed. “Fairly certain a lot of people would just call that mad.”

Draco shrugged a shoulder. “Then you're the one dating a lunatic.”

“Interesting and dynamic, huh?”

********

  
At the beginning of the next DA meeting, Harry relayed Severus' concerns to the other members, though, naturally, he didn't say any of them came from Severus.

“I really don't want to be responsible for anyone here getting hurt by the Boggart, so if you muck around tonight, I'll kick you out until the next meeting,” Harry concluded.

He looked around the group, making sure to make eye contact with the usual troublemakers: Fred, George, Lee, and Scarlett, as well as people like Blaise or Luna who were likely to just get distracted by something else. When he saw everyone nodding along solemnly, Harry got everyone to line up in two lines, one to either side of the cabinet. It shook even more violently when the enclosed Boggart sensed people getting nearer.

Harry stood in front of the cabinet and faced the group. “I'll get the first person in each line to step forward together. As soon as the Dementor appears, both of you start trying the spell. Once one of you has successfully driven the Dementor back into the cabinet, you can both go the end of the line and grab a piece of chocolate. Just make sure you stay a little further away from the Boggart than I am – we need it to stay as a Dementor. And if at any time you feel like the Dementor is going to make you faint, or you can't handle it, just step back and make sure to get extra chocolate.”

He glanced at Hermione who nodded her readiness to step in if necessary, then turned to the first two people. “Alright, Elizabeth, Adrian, you ready? I'll open the cabinet on three. One... Two... _Patefacio_.”

Sparks flew from Harry's wand and the cabinet door opened with a crash. A Dementor rose up, causing a few people to whimper when they felt the cold dread spread into the room. Elizabeth and Adrian raised their wands determinedly.

“ _Expecto patronum!_ ” they cried in tandem.

Everyone watched in tense silence as two Patronuses, an owl and a wolf, materialised and sped towards the Dementor. Harry couldn't tell which one hit it first, but the Dementor turned and dove back into the cabinet. The door slammed shut behind it and the entire thing rattled indignantly.

“Great work! Don't forget to have some chocolate,” Harry said, grinning. “Okay, Alicia and Angelina, you're up.”

Again and again, they repeated the process. As expected, the success rate of Patronus casting dropped dramatically in the face of the Dementor. More than one person was unable to cast even a shield Patronus, forcing Harry to step in and cast his own. 

The first person to collapse was Bastien. He had to sit down in the far corner, with Nerissa to watch over him and a small mountain of chocolate to eat. Given all of this, Harry was rather nervous when it was Draco and Hermione's turn.

He was right to be.

********

  


“It was a nightmare,” Harry complained later that night.

He was sitting on the couch in Severus' quarters, having used his Cloak to sneak there after the DA meeting was over.

Severus handed him a cup of tea. “Did anyone get Kissed?”

“No, but pretty much everything else that could go wrong did. Bastien and Viola both collapsed and sat out in a corner with Nerissa looking after them. All four Weasleys failed to even cast a shield Patronus. I thought Terry was going to throw up when it was his turn, he was so green – luckily, George gave him something that made him better. Half the group cried at least once. And then, of course, a bunch of people laughed when Draco cast his Patronus. I could've strangled the lot of them at that,” Harry said, scowling at the memory.

“Why on earth did they laugh at his Patronus?” Severus asked with a frown.

“It's a ferret,” Harry said flatly.

“Ah,” said Severus, his mouth twitching.

“Don't laugh!” Harry snapped.

“Wouldn't dream of it,” Severus said, sipping his own tea.

Harry narrowed his eyes suspiciously, but continued. “He claims it's a Jarvey, but I think he does know the truth, deep down.”

Severus nodded. “Probably. Still, this will likely prevent your godfather from convincing him to try to become an Animagus.”

Harry frowned. “What are you on about?”

“Black's already suggested you try it. Why would he not suggest the same to his nephew? Given that he himself is an Animagus, and Tonks a Metamorphmagus, I imagine that he'd be able to successfully teach Draco how to transform. I shudder to think what Draco would get up to if he was able to transform into a ferret.”

Harry grinned at the thought. “Wait, so someone's Patronus and Animagus forms are always the same? I mean, I know Dad's were the same... And McGonagall's...”

“Not always, and one's Patronus can sometimes change form, but if one is capable of both the charm and the transformation, they usually do take the same form,” Severus said.

“Huh. I _told_ Sirius I wouldn't do it because I'd end up being a bloody deer,” Harry said triumphantly.

Severus rolled his eyes. “Now that we are agreed that neither you nor Draco should attempt to become Animagi, may we return to the subject at hand?”

“Sorry. Okay, so Draco refused to try again tonight, but at least he did it once. Hermione only managed a shield.”

Severus' eyebrows shot up. “Hermione failed to cast a corporeal Patronus?”

“Yeah. I've never seen her struggle with a new spell like this,” Harry said.

Severus frowned in thought. “I believe her problem may well be related to the memory portion of the charm.”

“Hermione's got a brilliant memory,” Harry said, bristling.

“I didn't mean it like that. I simply meant that she may need to pick a particularly strong memory, and only use that when attempting the spell,” Severus said slowly. “It's what Minerva had me do when I was struggling to learn it.”

“Yeah, but this is a little different,” Harry said awkwardly.

“I do not mean to imply that she is a Death Eater, not in the least. Merely that, given the alacrity with which she usually learns new spells, her problem is unlikely to be due to the magical requirement of the spell,” Severus explained.

Harry nodded. “Yeah, okay, I'll let her know.”

“Don't be so despondent. I'm sure the next meeting will go better,” Severus said.

“Yeah... It's just, I dunno, I'd been enjoying teaching. I was even sort of thinking about doing it when I grow up,” Harry said.

It was the first time he'd voiced the thought out loud. He watched Severus somewhat nervously for his reaction.

Severus looked surprised, but then nodded slowly. “If it's truly what you want to do, you cannot let one less than stellar lesson put you off the idea entirely. Every job has its bad days.”

“Yeah, I know. But then there's also all the marking. I've seen how much you do, don't try to deny it,” Harry said, pulling a face.

Severus snorted. “You get used to it. Which subject would you choose, if you do go into teaching?”

“Defence,” Harry said warily. “Which is another reason not to do it. You'd kill me if I got to teach that and you didn't.”

“I wouldn't kill you,” Severus scoffed. “I'd merely un-adopt you.”

It was Harry's turn to snort. “Funny.”

“I thought so,” Severus said.

********

  
The next DA meeting went a little better, but only just. No one passed out, at least, but plenty of people were still struggling to cast a corporeal Patronus when faced with a Dementor. Harry refused to get discouraged again. Buoyed by Severus' calm support, he stayed cheerful and did his best to encourage the other members.

Theo was still complaining the next evening. “Still, I suppose it could be worse. My Patronus could be a ferret.”

Draco kicked him under the dinner table. “It's a fucking Jarvey, you arse.”

“Would you both keep it down?” Millicent asked through gritted teeth. “If the two of you get me expelled I'll murder both of you.”

“Yeah, and I'll help,” Daphne added.

Draco rolled his eyes. “We're not being that loud.”

Just then, a piercing scream ripped through the air. Conversations all through the Great Hall fell deadly silent at the sound, which seemed to be coming from the Entrance Hall.

“Now _that_ was loud,” Blaise said, breaking the silence.

There was a commotion from the staff table. Harry turned to see McGonagall on her feet. 

“Everyone is to remain seated!” she yelled.

She hurried around the staff table towards the doors, with Flitwick, Sprout and Sinistra at her feet. The students all began to talk once more, with many rising to their feet, when another scream came from the Entrance Hall.

“The first student to leave their seat will have detention for the rest of the night!” Severus shouted, glaring around the room. 

Harry met his gaze and set his jaw. Ignoring the way Severus' eyes narrowed warningly, Harry stood up and ran out of the Great Hall. He sparked an exodus as, with the spectre of a night of detention gone, everyone else followed him.

Harry skidded to a stop in the Entrance Hall, with people spilling out after him. Looking over the tops of Sprout and Flitwick's heads, he saw Trelawney standing in the centre of the hall. She was swaying slightly and looking quite unhinged, a bottle of sherry and her wand clutched in her hands. Her glasses were slipping from her face, her hair looked as if it had been electrocuted, and her shawls were falling off her shoulders even as Harry watched. There were two large trunks on the floor next to her. One of them was upside-down, making Harry believe that at least one of them had been thrown down the marble staircase after her.

Umbridge was standing at the foot of said staircase, a malicious smile playing across her face as she watched Trelawney shriek in front of her. A sick feeling settled in Harry's stomach at the sight of her smug pleasure. While he definitely didn't like Trelawney, he didn't want to see her reduced to this. She was sobbing by the time most of the school was crowded around the edges of the Entrance Hall.

“You can't! No! This can't be happening... This can't be real. It can't be!” Trelawney shrieked.

“Shouldn't you have foreseen this coming?” Umbridge asked, her smile growing even wider. “This just proves my assessment of you was correct, doesn't it. You couldn't even predict your own dismissal. What on earth made you think I could allow you to remain as a teacher? I've never seen such incompetence before in my life.”

“Noooo!” Trelawney wailed. She sank down onto one of her trunks. “P-p-please! Please d-don't do this! You can't!”

“Oh, but I can,” Umbridge said in her sugary voice. “Now get up, before you embarrass yourself any further.”

“B-but Hogwarts is my home! I've nowhere else to go! Please!” Trelawney sobbed.

“It _was_ your home. Until this evening, when the Minister for Magic agreed with me and countersigned your Order of Dismissal. If only you had have seen this coming, maybe you could have secured alternate accommodation,” Umbridge said in a sugary tone.

“There will be no need for that,” McGonagall said, striding forward. She pulled a handkerchief from a pocket and handed it to Trelawney. “There you are, Sybil. It'll be alright... You won't have to leave Hogwarts.”

“Perhaps you didn't hear me, Professor McGonagall,” Umbridge said, her voice becoming even sweeter. “Professor – that is, _Miss_ Trelawney has been dismissed. Her quarters will be needed for her replacement teacher.”

“I don't think they will,” said a new voice.

The entire crowd turned as one, to see Dumbledore standing in the front doorway. Harry couldn't remember seeing a more dramatic entrance. The students who had been standing in front of the doors had scurried out of his way, leaving him alone in the doorway, with the dark grounds framing his silhouette. Mist rolled in from the grounds, completing the effect.

After a beat of silence, Umbridge gave a horrible fake laugh. “Really, Professor Dumbledore? You must have arrived too late to hear my announcement. Miss Trelawney has been fired. She is no longer permitted to teach here at Hogwarts -” she ignored the renewed sobbing at this “- and thus must leave the castle immediately. I have every authority to judge the staff here, and to dismiss anyone I deem unfit to teach. I have decided that Sybil Trelawney is unfit to teach – indeed, I confess myself unsure as to why she was hired in the first place – and therefore, she must leave.”

Harry was shocked when Dumbledore merely smiled at Umbridge.

“Oh, you have the right to dismiss my staff; Cornelius has seen to that, Madam High Inquisitor. You do not, however, have the power to force anyone from the grounds of Hogwarts. That prerogative remains with the Headmaster of Hogwarts, at least for now,” Dumbledore said, here giving a polite half-bow. “I do not wish for Professor Trelawney to leave the castle. It is, after all, her home.”

“No, no!” Trelawney shrieked, beginning to rise off her trunk. “I can tell I'm not welcome. I'll g-go!”

“No, you will stay,” Dumbledore said. It was unmistakeably an order, and Trelawney sat back down on the trunk. “Professor McGonagall, would you kindly escort Professor Trelawney back upstairs?”

“Of course, Headmaster,” McGonagall said, then grasped Trelawney under the elbow. “Come on, then, up you get, Sybil...”

Sprout hurried forward to take Trelawney by her other arm. The three women made their way around Umbridge and up the stairs. Flitwick also came forward. “ _Locomotor trunks!_ ” he said, then guided the floating trunks up the stairs. Dumbledore remained where he was, smiling blandly at Umbridge.

“And what, pray tell, do you think will happen to her once I appoint a new Divination teacher who needs her quarters?” Umbridge asked in a dangerous whisper.

The crowd turned their heads back to Dumbledore; it was rather like watching the tennis.

Dumbledore's smile remained in place. “I can't imagine that will be a problem. I've already found a replacement, you see, and he will prefer quarters on the ground floor.”

“ _You?_ ” Umbridge's eyes bulged with anger. “Must I remind you, Headmaster, that under Educational Decree Number Twenty-two, the Ministry will appoint a teacher when the Headmaster or Headmistress of Hogwarts proves incapable of doing so?”

“Not when,” Dumbledore replied. “If.”

“What?” asked Umbridge.

“ _If_ I am unable to appoint a teacher, the Ministry has the right to step in. As it happens, I have been successful in finding a replacement,” said Dumbledore. When Umbridge merely gaped at him, Dumbledore half-turned and gestured to the still open doors. “Allow me to introduce Firenze.”

There was a deep, expectant silence, and then Harry heard the sound of hooves on the cobblestones outside. The students near the doorway moved even further out of the way, in order to let through the palomino centaur who had once saved Harry and Draco from Voldemort in the Forbidden Forest.

“Firenze, allow me to show you to your new quarters,” Dumbledore said.

Firenze inclined his head, then followed Dumbledore across the hall and down the ground floor corridor next to the dungeon stairs. There was a stunned silence in the Entrance Hall, before Umbridge gathered herself.

“What are you all waiting for? To your dormitories!” she snapped, then headed up the stairs behind her.

There was an explosion of excited chatter as everyone discussed what had just happened while the remaining teachers tried to disperse the crowd. Harry was looking around for his friends when Severus stepped in front of him. 

“My office, Mr Potter. I shall be along shortly,” he snapped.

“Yes, sir,” Harry said.

He walked down to the dungeons alone, getting passed by a noisy group of first years talking about Firenze. Severus' office was unnervingly quiet after the events of the last half hour. Harry sat down reluctantly, keen to join his friends who were no doubt rehashing things at that very moment.

Five minutes later Severus swept into the room and slammed the door. “What the hell did you think you were doing, disobeying me in front of the entire school like that?”

“I didn't want to... If you hadn't have said anything I wouldn't have had to disobey you,” Harry tried.

Severus huffed angrily as he took his seat. “Oh, I see, this is all _my_ fault, for trying to keep a few hundred students safe. My apologies.”

“Safe from Trelawney?”

Severus glared at him from over his desk. “Are you actually trying to tell me that you recognised her voice by her screams?”

“Well, no...” Harry admitted. 

“You just went running towards an unknown danger,” Severus said. 

Harry stared at him. “I didn't really think about it.”

Severus looked at him for a long time, then sighed heavily. “Harry, there was a very good reason why the rest of the staff and I tried to keep all of the students within the Great Hall when we heard screaming coming from the Entrance Hall.”

Harry slumped down in his seat. “Because you were trying to protect us?”

“Precisely.”

“I'm sorry,” Harry said in a small voice.

“You will be. We'll be spending your detention working on your Occlumency,” said Severus.

Harry silenced a groan and nodded. He was still getting used to the guilt that came with getting in trouble since his adoption. Before, he hadn't given much thought to what the Dursleys might have felt about him getting detention, but now he found he hated seeing that disappointed look in Severus' eyes.

“I'm sorry,” he said again. “I didn't mean to, you know, show you up in front of the school like that.”

Severus' face softened slightly. “I shan't deny that it was a smart move on your part. No one else would have risked spending a night of detention in here. Very Slytherin of you.”

Harry offered a small smile. “I get to learn from the best.”

Severus rolled his eyes. “Flattery? How very -”

“Severus, may I come through?”

Harry and Severus both turned to the fireplace to find Flitwick's head poking out of the flames.

“By all means,” said Severus. 

Flitwick's head retreated, then a few seconds later he walked out of the fireplace. He brushed some soot of his shoulders then looked up at Severus. “We need some calming potions.”

Severus frowned. “Is Poppy out already? I only gave her some a month ago.”

“No, she has sufficient stock,” Flitwick said unhappily. He glanced at Harry and lowered his voice. “She just didn't have anything that could be administered to someone who has ingested alcohol.”

“Of course. One moment,” said Severus. 

He stood up and walked over to the cabinet in the corner. 

Harry looked at Flitwick. “Is Professor Trelawney okay, sir?”

Flitwick nodded. “She will be, Mr Potter. Professors McGonagall and Sprout are still with her.”

Severus handed him a large red vial. “Give her a spoonful of this, then wait ten minutes before giving her another. You, ah, might want to wait until she's fully calmed before telling her of her replacement.”

“One has already been appointed?” asked Flitwick in surprise.

“Albus has convinced one of the centaurs to take the position,” Severus explained.

“Oh. Oh, she won't like that,” said Flitwick, then smiled. “Still, I suspect Umbridge wasn't happy to have another non-human added to the staff.”

“She was not,” Severus confirmed. 

The two teachers shared a satisfied smile, but Harry frowned. 

“Hagrid's got more humanity in his little finger than the toad will ever have,” he said.

“I meant no offence to Hagrid, Mr Potter,” Flitwick said mildly. “After all, I count myself in that number.”

Harry blinked. “You're not half-giant.”

Flitwick burst into laughter. “No, I'm not. Quite the reverse, really. My great-grandfather was a goblin.”

“Really?” asked Harry.

“Really. I thought it was common knowledge,” Flitwick said, seeming a little confused.

“It was when I was a student,” Severus remarked.

“I'll ask Pansy. If she doesn't know about something, then it's not common knowledge here,” Harry declared.

Flitwick giggled. “In any case, it seems that that's enough non-human blood to annoy our High Inquisitor, but not enough to make her target me like she has Hagrid. Now, if you'll excuse me, I really should be getting back.”

“Let me know if you need any more than that, Filius,” said Severus, gesturing towards the potion.

Flitwick looked at the bottle and nodded. “I will, thank you.”

He walked back over the fireplace and threw some Floo powder in. “Sybil's quarters!” he cried, before disappearing into the green flames. 

Harry watched the flames turn back to their usual colour, only turning around when he heard Severus clear his throat. 

“ _Legilimens_.”

With all that had happened that evening, Harry took longer than usual to clear his mind. He was plunged halfway through his last Care of Magical Creatures lesson (during which Umbridge had made snide comments about Hagrid's expulsion as a student) before he managed to clear his mind. It took him another minute or two to bring up his mental shield.

After mentally chasing Harry as he flew out of his memories, Severus cancelled the spell.

“Good,” he said. “Again.”

********

  
After three hours of Occlumency practise, Harry was permitted to return to the Slytherin common room. He walked in and headed straight for his dorm, ignoring the people who called out to him, asking for more information about Trelawney's sacking. He found Draco, Blaise, Theo, and the fifth year girls all congregated in the dorm, an abandoned game of poker lying on the floor near Blaise's bed.

Draco was the first to notice Harry had returned. “How bad was it?” he asked.

Harry hissed a hello to Ladon, who was dozing at the top of his bed frame, then dropped heavily onto the bed. “Not too bad. He wasn't happy I'd shown him up in front of everyone, but he admitted it was a pretty Slytherin move, so he was proud as well.”

“Any insider news?” Pansy asked eagerly.

Harry let out a tired laugh. “A bit, yeah. Draco, where's your sweets stash?”

“Hang on,” Draco said.

He got off his bed and rummaged around in his trunk and pulled out a package of chocolates. He sat down next to Harry and handed him one. 

“Thanks,” Harry said. He bit down and felt rich caramel ooze out of the chocolate.

“So?” Pansy prompted. 

Harry swallowed and popped the rest of the chocolate into his mouth. “Trelawney's not that great. While I was with Dad, Flitwick came in to get some calming potions. He needed some that wouldn't react badly with alcohol.”

“She looked pretty far gone in the Entrance Hall,” Blaise said.

“Yeah. Dad told Flitwick about Firenze, and they got all smug about Umbridge having to put up with another teacher who isn't human.”

Tracey smirked. “Told you she was bigoted our first night back here this year.”

“Yeah,” Harry agreed, then turned to Pansy. “That reminds me. Did you know that Flitwick's part goblin? He seemed to think we all knew.”

“No. Huh. I can see that, though,” she said.

Draco sat up straight. “Flitwick's part goblin?”

“Yeah,” said Harry.

“Makes sense, just look how short he is,” Theo said, helping himself to a chocolate.

Tracey nodded. “And he's very intelligent. Though he's a lot nicer than goblins usually are...”

“Wait, wait,” Draco said. “So, of the current teachers, one is a half-giant, one is a ghost, and one is part-goblin?”

“Yeah...” Harry said. He had a feeling he knew where this was going.

“And we had a werewolf,” Draco added.

“Mmm hmm,” Daphne hummed, biting her lip anxiously.

“And now there's a centaur,” Draco continued.

Pansy nodded. “Who you and Harry met in the Forbidden Forest, right? What's he like?”

“He saved us from Voldemort, so I guess he's pretty brave,” Harry said thoughtfully.

Draco waved a hand to shut him up. “Forget him. I've a far more important question.”

“What?” Millicent asked.

“ _Why_ can't we have a vampire for a teacher?” Draco cried.

“There it is,” Harry muttered.

“Why?” asked Millicent.

“Why not?” Draco countered. “Think how cool it would be! It's not too much to ask.”

“That's a terrible idea!” Pansy said, throwing Theo's pillow at Draco. 

“Hey!” Theo said, then Summoned it back to his bed.

“What? If they taught Defence that'd be really handy. We could have hands on experience dealing with a vampire!” Draco said.

“Yeah, hands on experience of getting _eaten_ by one,” Pansy said, throwing Theo's pillow at Draco again.

“Vampires aren't going to _eat_ you, Parkinson,” Draco said, throwing the pillow back at her.

“Only because I'm not dumb enough to go near one!” Pansy retorted. “When you get killed by one, I'm going to sit at your funeral and say I told you so to your casket.”

“So, Firenze. Will he be an improvement on Trelawney, do you think?” Daphne asked Harry.

He latched onto the change of topic. “I don't see how he could be any worse.”

By the time Greg and Vince came in to get ready for bed, Draco and Pansy were in a full blown pillow fight; Theo and Tracey had retreated onto Theo's bed and pulled the curtains shut; and Harry, Daphne, Millicent and Blaise were sitting on Blaise's bed, sharing Draco's sweets while they watched the fight.

Vince walked straight over to his bed without a second glance, but Greg lingered in the doorway for a moment. He gave a grunt of laughter and cracked a small smile when Pansy whacked Draco in the face. For a second, Harry thought Greg was going to say something to the group, but then his smile fell and he shuffled over to his bed and shut the curtains. 

Harry wasn't the only one who'd noticed Greg's indecision. Blaise and Millicent had returned their attention to the fight, but Daphne's mouth had turned down unhappily when she saw Greg disappear behind his bed curtains. She didn't say anything, though, just offered Harry a sad smile and dragged the sweets box back towards them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't list them all in the actual story, but I've picked out Patronuses for every single DA member. Some people have asked for the full list, so here it is:
> 
> Seventh years:  
> Adrian - wolf; Zubeida - bat; Elizabeth - owl; Cedric - badger; Fred and George - identical monkeys; Angelina - stork; Alicia - frog; Lee - seal.
> 
> Sixth years:  
> Vikram - cobra; Nerissa - cat; Bastien - lizard; Katie - sparrow; Cho - swan.
> 
> Fifth years:  
> Harry - fawn; Hermione - magpie (the cute, European one, not the vicious Aussie one); Draco - ferret (he never manages to fool anyone into thinking it's a Jarvey, not even Narcissa); Neville - wombat; Theo - raccoon; Tracey - hedgehog; Blaise - skunk; Pansy - British bulldog; Millicent - bear; Daphne - squirrel; Ron - Jack Russell; Dean - greyhound; Seamus - fox; Lavender - butterfly; Parvati - parrot; Padma - falcon; Morag - sheep; Anthony - dolphin; Terry - canary; Michael - camel; Justin - pigeon; Ernie - boar; Susan - red panda; Hannah - duck.
> 
> Fourth years:  
> Scarlett - German shepherd puppy (she and Harry are the only ones who have Patronuses that are identifiably juvenile animals); Archie - cow; Luna - hare; Ginny - horse; Colin - lion.
> 
> Third years:  
> Astoria - chipmunk; Viola - mouse.
> 
> Second years:  
> Malcolm - bull; Dennis - penguin.


	26. In Which the Minister Comes to Hogwarts

At breakfast on Tuesday morning everyone was still talking about Trelawney's sacking the night before, and the appointment of Firenze to her old post.

“Divination's now in classroom eleven,” Pansy said as she sat down at the Slytherin table. 

“How do you know?” Harry asked.

“It was on the noticeboard this morning. Tracey told me,” Pansy explained. “You can't expect a centaur to climb up to the old classroom, after all.”

“Did you tell Vince and Greg?” asked Daphne.

Pansy looked at her in surprise. “Of course not. Why would I?”

“Because they used to be our friends, Pans. You didn't see the look on Greg's face when they walked into the boys' dorm last night,” said Daphne reproachfully.

“Course she didn't. She was too busy beating up my boyfriend with his own pillow,” said Harry.

Pansy smirked at Draco. “Mmm, I was.”

“I won in the end,” said Draco.

Pansy snorted. “Keep telling yourself that.”

Daphne got up. “I'm going to tell them.”

“Don't know why she's bothering,” Draco muttered.

“Because it's the right thing to do?” offered Harry.

His only response was two blank looks. He rolled his eyes and returned to eating his breakfast.

When the meal was over Harry walked to the new classroom with Daphne and Pansy, with Greg and Vince trailing behind them. Classroom eleven was down the same ground floor corridor that Dumbledore had led Firenze down the night before. Harry had never had a class there. He thought that either Ancient Runes or Arithmancy classes were held in a nearby room; he had a vague memory of one night finding a classroom with incomprehensible diagrams on the blackboard, back when he and Draco had explored the castle under the Invisibility Cloak in their first and second years.

The classroom they walked into was unlike any he'd ever seen. There were no desks, no blackboard, no furniture of any kind. The entire room had been made to look like a peaceful forest clearing. Tree trunks obscured most of the walls and windows, with leafy branches spreading across the ceiling. Simulated sunlight filtered through the leaves, throwing the room into a greenish light that was far warmer than the green light of the Slytherin common room and dorms. The floor was a mossy grass, broken only by scattered rocks and tree stumps. The one sign that they were inside at all was a small rubbish bin sitting on the ground.

Firenze was standing in the centre of the clearing. He turned around when he heard the students' approach. “Harry Potter,” he said, holding out a hand. 

“Er, hello, Professor,” Harry said, shaking the proffered hand, noticing as he did so that there was a faded hoof-shaped bruise on Firenze's chest. “Er, nice to see you without Voldemort around.”

Firenze inclined his head. “Yes, though it was foretold that we would meet again.”

“Er, right,” said Harry. He didn't quite know what to make of that announcement. It sounded like the sort of thing Trelawney was fond of saying – but somehow, coming from Firenze, it sounded entirely believable.

Firenze gestured around himself. “Sit on the ground and make yourselves comfortable. I would have preferred to teach you in the Forbidden Forest, which until yesterday had been my home – but as that is no longer possible, Professor Dumbledore was kind enough to organise this replacement.”

As she sat down, Pansy eyed the bruise on Firenze's chest. “Why not, sir?”

“My herd has banished me,” Firenze said quietly.

“For teaching us?” Pansy asked shrewdly.

“Yes. The rest of my herd sees my acceptance of this position as a betrayal of our ways,” said Firenze.

“That's horrible,” Daphne breathed.

Firenze faced her. “It was. But enough. Lie back and direct your attention to the heavens.”

As he said this, he raised a hand towards the ceiling and slowly lowered it again. As his hand dropped, the room dimmed, with the light changing from a sunny midday to a starry twilight. Daphne gasped; on Harry's other side came a surprised grunt from Greg. Harry just settled back on the comfortable ground and stared at the starry sky above. There was a bright red star almost directly above him.

Firenze paced around the clearing, his hooves beating a muffled, soothing rhythm on the ground. “I know that you have learned in Astronomy about the different planets and their moons, about the movement of the stars through the skies. That knowledge will aid you in this class. Anything that Professor Trelawney may have taught you about reading the signs of the celestial bodies is to be forgotten.”

“Was she wrong?” Pansy asked, an unmistakeable note of triumph in her voice.

“I do not know if she has the Sight,” Firenze allowed, “but humans, when star-gazing, are notoriously self-centred. You see and search for only that which affects you directly. Trivial things, so small as to be of no consequence to the universe. Centaurs watch the skies in a different way. We do not concern ourselves with our own petty lives. We search for signs of greater import, for events that will affect entire races.”

On Daphne's other side, Pansy made a small, satisfied noise. Harry couldn't help grinning.

“Centaurs may take years, even decades, to decipher the meaning of what we are seeing,” said Firenze. He pointed to the red star above Harry. “Observe Mars. A decade and a half ago, Mars was dimmed, but its light has been growing steadily stronger in recent years. Mars is the bringer of battle and bloodshed. Its strengthening presence tells us that the peace in which mankind has been living is merely a temporary break between wars. Your world will be plunged back into a state of war. As yet, we centaurs are unsure of how soon that will happen.”

Harry raised his head to look down his body at Firenze. “Is there any way to be sure? To find out for certain when the war will start?”

“No,” Firenze said.

Harry lay back in disappointment. He'd hoped that maybe, as a centaur, Firenze would have a better idea of the future than Trelawney did.

“No, there is no way to be certain,” Firenze continued. “Not by the heavens alone. Centaurs may, however, attempt to gain greater insight by burning certain leaves and herbs, which is what we shall move onto now.”

Firenze then directed Daphne to gather a bundle of mallowsweet and sage from beside a fallen log and set it on fire in the centre of the room. The class was told to look out for certain shapes in the smoke, but unlike Trelawney, Firenze didn't try to suggest that they'd seen anything when they hadn't. He didn't seem at all surprised when the class as a whole failed to see a single sign in the smoke over the course of the lesson.

“Humans are very rarely good at Seeing. This technique often takes centaurs years to learn,” Firenze said, over the sound of the bell ringing. 

Harry stood up feeling rather disoriented; he'd forgotten they were inside the castle at all, given their surroundings. Everyone picked up their schoolbags with far less haste than if they'd been in a normal Divination lesson.

“Harry Potter, stay a moment, please,” Firenze said.

Harry shrugged at Pansy and Daphne, who gave him equally bemused looks before following Vince and Greg out of the room.

Firenze stared at Harry intently. “Harry Potter, you are friends with Hagrid, correct?”

“Yes, sir,” Harry said in confusion. 

Firenze leaned down to face him eye to eye. “Then pass him this warning: his efforts are doomed to fail. He would be best to abandon them.”

“His efforts are doomed to fail?”

Firenze nodded. “And so he should abandon them.”

“Is – is this to do with whatever keeps injuring him?” Harry asked.

Firenze straightened up slowly. “Hagrid has proven himself a true friend to me, and I have long respected him for the way he cares for all creatures. I will not, therefore, betray his secret. Just know that he cannot succeed in his current course. Make sure you tell him.”

Harry nodded. “I will, Professor.”

He hurried out of the room, intent on finding Draco and Hermione.

********

  
As it turned out, Hermione was studying in the library over morning break, so Harry decided to give her a wide berth. With OWLs approaching, interrupting her while studying had gone from an unpleasant to frightening prospect. Harry therefore decided to just tell her and Draco at the same time, on their way down to Care of Magical Creatures that afternoon.

“What do you mean his efforts are doomed?” Hermione demanded.

Harry spread his hands helplessly. “Just that. Firenze wouldn't go into any more detail.”

“It has to be connected to whatever keeps injuring him, it has to be,” Draco said darkly.

This was a sore topic for all three of them; Harry was even beginning to consider Draco's suggestion that he ask Severus to question Hagrid. So far, his loyalty to Hagrid was preventing him from betraying him, but Harry's patience was fast wearing thin. Since Umbridge was still inspecting every Care of Magical Creatures lesson, and they weren't allowed to visit Hagrid outside of class due to Umbridge's decrees, Harry had been unable to continue healing Hagrid of his mysterious injuries. Umbridge questioned him about them during class, but he was still refusing to say anything about them, and Umbridge was getting increasingly suspicious about them.

Today's class was no different. Hagrid did his best given Umbridge's snide comments, but he kept getting distracted. When the bell rang without Harry having had a chance to speak to Hagrid alone, he deliberately dropped his copy of _Monster Book of Monsters_ on the ground near Hagrid's hut.

“I've left my book behind. I'll catch up to you,” Harry said loudly, then headed straight back before Umbridge could say anything.

“I've got a message for you,” he said in a low voice.

Hagrid frowned at him, looked over his head at the retreating class, then nodded. “What is it?”

Harry stifled the urge to turn around to check for Umbridge himself. “It's from Firenze. He says your efforts are doomed and you should give up.”

Hagrid looked surprised. “Listen, Harry, Firenze is alrigh' fer a centaur, but 'e don't know what 'e's on about, alrigh'?”

“Are you sure? Because you still haven't told us what keeps hurting you.”

“It's nothin',” Hagrid said.

Harry let out a noise of frustration. “That's really not reassuring. I've never seen you hurt like this.”

“It's nothin',” Hagrid repeated.

Harry narrowed his eyes. “You're not breeding something terrifying again, are you? Something worse than the Skrewts?”

Hagrid waved a hand. “Not breedin' nothin', cross me 'eart.”

“If you don't want to tell me what you're up to, I won't force you to. But I don't have to tell you how pissed off Draco would be if whatever it is that's hurting you also hurt Fang, do I?” Harry said.

Hagrid looked as if he didn't know whether to smile or frown. “I don't reckon so, no.

“Good,” Harry said, then relented. “You know you can always ask me – and Draco and Hermione – for help if you need it, yeah?”

“Yeh can't, Harry, not with this, but I appreciate the offer,” Hagrid said.

********

  
As March dragged on, the spectre of exams loomed ever larger at Hogwarts, and the stress was beginning to show amongst the fifth and seventh years. More than one person had had to get a Calming Draught off Pomfrey – Neville had told Harry about Hannah breaking down in the middle of Herbology, but she was far from alone. Harry had gotten a month's supply of headache relievers from Severus to give to Theo and Tracey, whose stress headaches were getting progressively worse.

Harry hardly ever saw Hermione outside of class anymore; all her free time was now spent studying, either in the library with Tracey and Theo, or in the Gryffindor common room after curfew. The only time they really got to talk was during DA meetings.

Harry was feeling the pressure as well. Gone were the nights of playing poker with his friends in the boys' dorm, or of relaxing on a couch in the common room. Instead, he was reading through four and a half years' worth of notes, and regretting how often he'd fallen asleep in History of Magic. Severus wasn't exactly sympathetic about that last point – “did someone slip you a Sleeping Draught every lesson?” – but he was indispensable for other subjects. The nights when Harry snuck into Severus' quarters were no longer spent practising Occlumency, but on Severus testing Harry on his various school subjects. Harry didn't feel guilty about his extra help, though. He spent so much time passing along to his friends Severus' tips on Potions, Defence, and anything else Harry asked about, that on more than one occasion Harry jokingly suggested Severus just come into the common room and conduct a study group.

On top of all of that, Harry himself was getting more pressure from the members of the DA to teach only what would be on their exams. Marietta had quit the DA at the start of the month citing a heavy study load, and Michael had told Harry he was considering doing the same thing.

“Guys, I don't know what they're going to ask us about,” he said at the end of one meeting, after Morag had asked if they'd have to know about Shield Charms for their OWLs. “The best I can do is teach you what I know. It's gotta be more helpful than what Umbridge is making us read, right?”

When people nodded, Harry pulled out the Marauders' Map to check that the ways to the common rooms were all clear.

“We could just tell all the Ravenclaws to bugger off and start their own study group,” Draco said.

Harry snorted and raised his head from the Map. “Fairly sure that Hermione, Theo and Tracey would join them.”

Draco just shrugged and bent his own head over the Map, then froze. “Oh, bloody hell.”

“What?” asked Harry in alarm.

Draco jabbed at the entrance to the Slytherin common room. “Umbridge is outside the common room.”

Harry peered closer and felt a chill go down his spine. “It's not just Umbridge. The Carrow twins are with her.”

Hermione joined them and made a noise of dismay. “And it's not just the Slytherin common room. It's all of them.”

She was right. The Gryffindor common room was blocked by Filch, Warrington and Montague; the Ravenclaw entrance by Miles, Xander and Agnes; and the Hufflepuff one by Vince, Greg and Marietta.

“What's the hold up? Some of us have things to do before bed,” Fred said from behind them.

“She knows,” Harry said ominously, ignoring the commotion behind himself.

“How?” Draco demanded.

They both looked at Hermione.

“No one could have dobbed us in,” she said, then turned around. “Tracey! Theo! Come here!”

When they came over, Hermione quickly explained the situation.

“The only DA member not currently in this room is Edgecombe,” Theo said darkly.

“She can't have dobbed us in,” Hermione said.

Tracey shook her head. “Even if she somehow managed it, she wouldn't be lying in wait for the Hufflepuffs. The jinxes would've sent her to the infirmary.”

“How else would Umbridge have found out?” asked Draco.

Cedric walked up to them. “What's wrong?” he asked quietly.

“The entrances to all the common rooms are being guarded,” Hermione said.

Elizabeth had followed Cedric over. “Curfew hasn't started yet, not even for the younger year levels. We can just go to the library for a bit -”

“It's completely empty and Pince is posted at the entrance, with that Ravenclaw twat, Carmichael. And Mrs Norris is prowling around outside the kitchens, within meowing distance of the Hufflepuff entrance,” Theo reported. “They're waiting for us.”

“We're trapped in here,” Draco moaned.

“What do we do?” Tracey asked.

“If I can send Dad a message, he might be able to cover for us. Maybe he can say we all had detention or something,” Harry said.

He jerked the Map around to search the dungeons for Severus.

“Snape knows about the group?” Elizabeth asked, pushing back her dreadlocks nervously.

“Long story, but yeah,” Theo said, also poring over the Map.

“He's not in his office or his quarters,” Harry said, beginning to really panic now.

“What about the Forbidden Forest? Could he be collecting potions ingredients?” Draco suggested.

“The infirmary?” Tracey asked.

There was a tense few minutes while they all searched the Map. Hermione left to go quiet the rest of the group, who were getting louder as they complained about not being allowed out.

“Found him!” Cedric cried, pointing triumphantly at the Map. “Oh, bugger, this is not good.”

Harry looked where Cedric's finger had landed. The minuscule dot labelled as Severus Snape was in Dumbledore's office, along with Dumbledore and McGonagall. And they weren't alone.

“What the hell is _Fudge_ here for?” Tracey asked.

“And who the hell are all those other people?” asked Elizabeth.

“Aurors,” Draco said grimly. “Well, Dawlish and Proudfoot are. Weasley's some sort of assistant, I believe.”

“Oh god, we're all going to be expelled,” Hermione said, rejoining them.

“Looks like,” Tracey agreed.

“No, we're not,” Harry said.

“Yes, we are,” Draco said incredulously.

Harry shook his head stubbornly and looked up. “Not if I give myself up.”

Six sets of worried eyes met his.

“You can't!” said Draco.

“They have my dad, Draco,” Harry said.

“So? He can talk his way out of this,” Draco said.

“How?” asked Harry.

“Well – I don't know... I'm sure he'll think of something,” Draco said lamely.

Harry shook his head again. “They obviously know we've all disappeared. There's no reason the rest of you need to go down with me. It's the only way.”

“He's right,” Theo said.

Draco rounded on him. “Traitor! You're okay with Harry getting expelled if it saves your arse, is that it?”

“Of course not,” Theo snapped. “Look, they know we're up to something, right? All the common rooms are blocked, as are the library and kitchens, so we can't say we were there.”

“Agreed,” Cedric said.

“Still doesn't mean Harry needs to give himself up,” Draco argued.

“Yes, it does! Just not the way you think,” Theo said.

“What are you suggesting?” asked Tracey.

Theo swallowed nervously. “I'm suggesting that Harry claims he was planning on starting a Defence group. Not running an existing one, starting one. As in the first meeting would be tonight.”

“That could work,” Hermione said slowly, shooting a warning look at Draco. “Educational Decree Twenty-Four specified _regular_ meetings of three or more students. If Harry claims this was the first meeting, then that hardly counts as regular.”

Theo nodded. “Especially if we all say we turned up, listened to what he had to say, decided he was as mad as the Ministry and the _Daily Prophet_ keep telling us he is, and walked out again. If no real meeting took place, Harry will be fine.”

“That's more than I can come up with,” Harry admitted.

Draco looked at Harry unhappily. “But how are you going to do it? You can't very well march up to Dumbledore's office and hand yourself in, or they'll want to know how you knew they were all there. You can't let them know about the Marauders' Map.”

“Harry stays here. We all go back to our common rooms complaining about him, tell them where to find him, and then they turn up here to find Harry angry that none of us wanted to join his club,” said Tracey.

“That'll work,” Harry said, trying to ignore the panic thrumming through him.

“It better work,” Draco growled, then turned to Hermione. “What about the jinxes?”

“Jinxes?” Elizabeth asked sharply.

“If I can get to the parchment, I can set it on fire. That will cancel them all,” Hermione said.

Harry pulled his Invisibility Cloak out of his bag and handed both it and the Map to her. “Here. Go now, and be careful.”

Hermione swung the Cloak over herself. “Good luck,” she said, then slipped out of the room.

“Let's do it,” Harry said, then turned to face the rest of the group. “Er, guys, we've got a problem, but we've got a plan to keep you all out of trouble, okay?”

“Trouble?” Viola asked, sharing a worried glance with Astoria.

“Don't worry. You'll all be fine if you listen to Harry,” Cedric said.

Harry nodded. “Umbridge knows we're all missing, but -”

There was an outcry at that. It was silenced by Adrian giving an ear-piercing whistle.

“Shut it and let him finish,” he said.

Harry flashed him a grateful smile. “Right, so, here's the plan. The common rooms are all being guarded. You all need to go back and complain that I convinced you all to meet me here to talk about starting a defence club. You came up here to hear me out, but left because I was full of it. Call me a liar, call me crazy, just say whatever you need to.”

There was a stunned silence, broken by Ginny.

“That's mental,” she said.

“It's the only way to keep you lot out of trouble,” Harry said.

“What about you?” Daphne asked.

“I'll be fine,” Harry said with a confidence he didn't feel.

Draco looked at Zubeida. “Umbridge is at our entrance. You're the most senior Slytherin Prefect, so it'll look good if, when you see her, you're the one to tell her that Harry's up here.”

Zubeida's eyes flicked between Draco and Harry warily. “Okay...”

Harry nodded and opened the door. “Good luck, everyone.”

The group filed out silently, most of them giving Harry worried looks as they passed him. Eventually, it was just him and Draco left.

“You need to go, too,” Harry said. 

“I know,” Draco said, then kissed him. He pulled back and roughly ran his hands through Harry's hair, then pulled Harry's glasses so that they were slightly lopsided. “To help you look crazier. Try talking to yourself when you hear them coming.”

“Okay. Thanks,” Harry said.

Draco bit his lip, then kissed Harry again, hard this time. “I'll wait up for you,” he said, then walked out of the room.

Alone now, Harry left the door open and walked further into the room. He eyed the Boggart's cabinet, which rattled slightly at his approach. “Just you and me now, mate,” he said.

He had a fleeting thought about setting the Boggart on Umbridge when she came for him and cracked a smile. It quickly faded when his thoughts turned to what was about to happen. Umbridge was going to be beyond smug at catching him, he knew. Maybe he should Occlude – no, despite how far he'd come with Occlumency, he wanted to make sure he had all his wits about him for this.

Harry ran a hand through his hair, then remembered Draco wanted it messier than usual, so gave it a good scrub. He began pacing up and down as he thought about what he was going to say. Not long now, surely. The Slytherins should have gotten to their common room by now, Zubeida would be in the middle of telling Umbridge where to find Harry.

“I hope you got to the parchment, Hermione,” Harry muttered.

He wiped his sweaty hands on his robes and wished he hadn't given the Map to Hermione. He desperately wanted to know what was happening. Had Umbridge bought Zubeida's story? Or were his friends even now being rounded up, in preparation for expulsion? What was Severus going to say? Harry groaned at the thought of Severus' disappointment in him. All their careful planning, and it had come to this.

A faint noise broke the silence: footsteps. A few seconds later and Harry could tell that there were more than one set coming his way. He began pacing. Time to put on a show and lie his heart out.

“Ungrateful bloody bastards,” Harry said loudly. “What more do they want? I faced Voldemort, you think that'd be enough to make people take me seriously, but did they? Oh, no. 'Let's go see Potter the freakshow. We won't listen to anything he has to say, just point and laugh'. What do these people want from me? It was a good idea.” He kicked the base of a bookshelf. “A bloody good idea! Well, I'll show them. I'll -”

“Potter!”

Harry spun around to see Umbridge smiling at him from the doorway. She moved inside, followed closely by Fudge, then Percy. Dumbledore, Severus and McGonagall were right behind them, all three looking grim, with two red-robed Aurors bringing up the rear. The Aurors walked past the other adults and took up positions at the far end of the room, on either side of the Boggart's cabinet.

Harry gulped. “Professor. I – I was just -”

“We know what you were up to. There's no way you can deny it,” Umbridge said gloatingly.

Severus ignored her and walked up behind Harry, resting his left hand on Harry's shoulder and making him feel slightly calmer.

“Deny what?” asked Harry. He looked over at a scratching sound to see Percy apparently taking notes.

“That you were organising an illegal club in order to teach other students spells which the Ministry has deemed inappropriate!” Fudge spat, glaring at him.

“Who sold me out?” Harry asked, trying to sound angry rather than scared.

“Miss Khan told me everything. How you'd spoken to students, asking them to meet you here in order to form a group to learn defence behind the Ministry's back!” Umbridge said. She didn't sound angry, but positively gleeful.

“I knew I shouldn't have asked her,” Harry said, arranging his features into a scowl so that he wouldn't smile over Umbridge buying Zubeida's story. He was still in danger, but at least all his friends should be safe.

“You shouldn't have asked anyone, Potter. You've just gotten yourself and all your friends expelled,” Fudge said.

“I think not, Cornelius,” Dumbledore said calmly.

Fudge goggled at him. “No? You are aware, are you not, that we have evidence of scores of students deliberately breaking both school rules and a Ministry Decree?”

“No, I'm not,” said Dumbledore.

“Minister -”

“Not now, Proudfoot,” Fudge snapped. “Dumbledore, we know that Potter met with a multitude of his fellow students in Hogsmeade back in October, in order to ask them to join his illegal little group!”

“No, he didn't,” said Dumbledore.

Harry frowned, trying to figure out where Dumbledore was going with this. He glanced at Severus, but his face was so blank that for once, Harry couldn't read him at all. McGonagall was easier: she was furious.

“We have a testimony from Willy Widershins, who came to see me that very day to report Potter's actions!” Umbridge said triumphantly.

“So _that's_ how he got out of being punished for all of those regurgitating toilets! Why am I not surprised that our justice system is so corrupt?” cried McGonagall.

Proudfoot cleared his throat. “Minister -”

“Not _now_ , Proudfoot!” Fudge repeated, not taking his eyes off Dumbledore. “We wouldn't want to miss a word of Dumbledore's latest fantastical story, now, would we?”

Dumbledore smiled. “I've no fantastical stories for you tonight, Cornelius. I merely wanted to point out that, if this meeting took place in October, it was quite legal, as Educational Decree Twenty-Four had yet to be written. Neither Harry nor any of the other students did anything wrong.”

Fudge turned red, his mouth hanging open.

Umbridge stepped forward. “That may be the case, Headmaster, but any meeting that took place in the six months since then was most certainly illegal, and thus grounds for expulsion.”

“Only if they were regular,” Harry said.

“What are you on about?” Umbridge asked.

“That Decree said that a student club or organisation was made up of three or more students who met regularly. Tonight was going to be the first proper meeting, but everyone else left early anyway,” said Harry, putting as much bitterness into his voice as he was able.

“Two meetings in sixth months is hardly regular,” said Severus.

“A technicality,” Umbridge said.

“A technicality which you wrote,” Severus pointed out.

“I'd keep quiet if I were you, Snape, this is your son facing expulsion after all,” Fudge said.

Severus' hand tightened momentarily on Harry's shoulder. “On what grounds? You've just heard that Harry was not part of any regular meetings and has therefore not broken any rules.”

“We know that Potter and the others have gone missing numerous times since October!” said Umbridge. “How do you explain that?”

“I cannot speak for the other students, but Harry often has dinner with me in my quarters,” said Severus.

“Which I told you was not to continue!” cried Umbridge.

“You did. You did not, however, write a Decree about that, and there aren't actually any school rules against a student dining with a teacher. Harry cannot be expelled for that,” Severus said.

Fudge looked at Harry, his lip curling. “So if we were to question your friends – and Filch is getting a list of them all as we speak – they wouldn't tell us that they've been coming to meetings for six months?”

“I don't know what they'd say, because I've no idea what they were doing those times you claim they were missing,” said Harry. “Maybe they were sneaking up to the Astronomy Tower?”

He saw Dumbledore's moustache twitch at that.

Proudfoot cleared his throat again. “Minster -”

Fudge finally snapped. “ _What?_ ”

Proudfoot pointed behind Fudge. “I think you should turn around, sir.”

Harry looked to where he was pointing and swore internally. There, written on the blackboard next to the door, were the course aims of the DA. They'd erased any that had been met, which meant most of the remaining ones were the ridiculous, far-fetched ones that advocated getting rid of Umbridge, Fudge, or the Ministry in general. It had been a laugh when they'd been written, but now Harry could see just how incriminating they must look. Severus' hand twitched on Harry's shoulder when he read them; Fudge gasped and dropped his green bowler hat; Umbridge and Percy each let out a strangled cry; McGonagall's lips thinned as she turned to Dumbledore.

“Ah,” he said slowly. “I see you didn't have time to erase that, Harry.”

Harry blinked in surprise before schooling his features into a contrite look. “No, sir.”

“You knew?” Fudge breathed, regaining his composure at last.

“Of course I did, Cornelius. You read the board: Dumbledore's Army. Not Potter's,” said Dumbledore.

“You organised it?” Umbridge asked excitedly.

“Yes, I did,” Dumbledore replied.

“Then why does it appear to have been written by more than one person?” Fudge asked.

“Oh, er, I -” Harry gulped as his mind raced. “I like to draw, and lately I've been working on writing in different styles.”

“And you decided to try that out on this blackboard, did you?” Fudge asked nastily.

“Yeah, I did. I've been experimenting with drawing on blackboards a bit lately,” Harry said. 

He looked straight at Umbridge as he said it, and knew that she at once caught on he was admitting to drawing the toad in her classroom. Her face went red, but before she could say anything, Dumbledore spoke up.

“I encouraged him, Cornelius. I thought that if it looked as if some students were already invested in the group, that others would be encouraged to join as well,” Dumbledore said.

“You planned all this?” Fudge asked incredulously.

“All of it,” Dumbledore said pleasantly.

Harry opened his mouth to protest, then snapped it shut again when Severus squeezed his shoulder in warning.

“What about Potter?” asked Fudge.

Dumbledore gave a small shrug. “Harry was acting entirely under my orders. I couldn't very well recruit the students myself – that would be far too suspicious, and I am well aware that I can, on occasion, come across as intimidating to some of the younger students. Harry was merely the means I used to get the other students here this evening. He was to lure them here, and then I would form a child army, teaching them spells prohibited by the Ministry. Unfortunately, I was delayed by urgent business, and before I could arrive here to lead the meeting, my office was rather overrun with Ministry officials.”

There was a stunned silence, then Fudge found his voice again.

“You have been plotting against me all this time?”

“Yes, I have,” Dumbledore said, smiling.

“You admit that you have been intending to train your students to defy me and the Ministry? To break the law? To form your own army?”

“I intended to, yes,” Dumbledore said.

Fudge's face was turning steadily redder. “Have you gotten all this down Weasley?”

“Yes, sir!” Percy reported, hurriedly looking over his notes.

“Very well. Duplicate your notes and send the copy to the _Daily Prophet_. If you go to the owlery immediately we should be able to make tomorrow's edition!” Fudge ordered.

“Yes, sir!” Percy rolled up his parchment and raced out of the room. 

Fudge rubbed his hands together gleefully. “I came here to expel Potter, but arresting you will be so much better.”

“It would, if such an occurrence was to ever happen,” Dumbledore replied.

“What do you mean? You just admitted to plotting against the Ministry! We'll be taking you to the Ministry to be formally charged, and then you will await trial in Azkaban,” Fudge said.

Harry felt sick at the happiness with which Fudge said that. He could tell by the way Severus' fingers clenched that he was similarly incensed.

Dumbledore merely smiled. “I mean that I won't be allowing you to arrest me. I have absolutely no desire to go to Azkaban. I could always break out, of course, but that would be a waste of my time. And it wouldn't look very good for the Ministry – though I suppose my slipping through your fingers tonight won't, either. Oh, well. Sad as that is, it can't be helped.”

Umbridge turned a rather interesting shade of red as Dumbledore spoke. Fudge's bewildered disappointment made him look like a child who had just dropped his ice cream on the floor. He blinked foolishly at Dumbledore, then turned to the Aurors, who both nodded.

“I wouldn't, if I were you, gentlemen,” Dumbledore said. “While I'm sure you're both highly skilled Aurors, if you attempt to take me by force, I'm afraid that I will have to hurt you.”

Dawlish and Proudfoot gawked at him before looking to Fudge for instructions.

Fudge snapped his mouth shut and glared at Dumbledore. “You've a mighty high opinion of yourself if you think that you can single-handedly take on Dawlish, Proudfoot, Dolores and myself.”

“False modesty becomes no one, Cornelius,” Dumbledore said.

“And he won't be alone!” McGonagall cried, reaching for her wand.

“Yes I will, Minerva!” Dumbledore said even louder. “You are needed here at Hogwarts!”

“Yes, McGonagall, listen to Dumbledore, or risk joining him in Azkaban,” sneered Fudge. He pulled out his wand. “Proudfoot! Dawlish! Get him!”

Before the Aurors had even taken a step forward, a bolt of silver light streaked around the room at the same time as a loud bang made the floor shake. Severus pushed Harry to the ground, lying half on top of him just before another streak of silver light tore around the room, filling it with dust. Someone else fell heavily to the floor in front of Harry, but there was so much dust in the air that he couldn't make out who it was. There was the sound of splintering wood then someone shrieked as many heavy objects fell to the floor. One of them hit Harry's outstretched arm; he hissed with pain and tried to tuck himself into a smaller target. There were some hurried footsteps, more objects fell to the floor, then a deafening silence.

Harry squirmed out of Severus' grip to sit up. They both got to their feet in time to see Dumbledore striding over to them. Behind him, McGonagall was getting to her own feet. Fudge, Umbridge and the Aurors were all lying on the floor, unmoving. The bookcases that had lined the room were mostly demolished, their contents lying on the floor. The Boggart's cabinet was thankfully still intact at the far end of the room.

“We don't have much time – they'll wake up in a moment and it is best that they do not know we had time to converse,” Dumbledore said quickly.

“What will you do, Albus?” asked McGonagall.

“I'm going to make Fudge regret forcing me from Hogwarts. I'll be in touch with the Order when it is safe for me to do so – do not attempt to contact me in the meantime,” Dumbledore replied, then bent down to Harry. “Severus has told me how far you have progressed with Occlumency. It is most important that you continue to practise it, Harry.”

Harry nodded miserably. “Professor, I'm sorry -”

Dumbledore cut him off with an upraised hand. “I know. Just promise me,” he gripped Harry's wrist urgently, “promise me that you'll keep practising your Occlumency.”

“He will,” Severus said.

Harry couldn't answer. The second Dumbledore had touched his wrist, Harry had once again felt that hateful urge to hurt Dumbledore, to see him bleed and suffer, accompanied by a shooting pain through his scar. He closed his eyes and, with a great amount of effort, began to Occlude.

Dumbledore's eyes widened slightly, as if he'd sensed something of what Harry was thinking, then a bright flash of scarlet fire shot through the air, accompanied by a beautiful but eerie song. Harry immediately recognised the song as the same one that he'd heard when his wand had connected with Voldemort's in the graveyard in June.

Severus looked down at him. “It's just Fawkes, Harry,” he said quietly.

Harry looked at the scarlet blur, and saw that it was indeed a bird. About the size of a swan, with scarlet plumage and gold claws, beak and tail, it headed straight for Dumbledore. As the bird passed overhead, Dumbledore let go of Harry. He reached up to snag one of the phoenix's long golden tail feathers, and they both disappeared in a bright burst of fire.

There was a load groan from the floor, and Severus quickly pulled Harry back into a half crouch, then made a show of pulling them both to their feet as Fudge and Umbridge did the same. The Aurors both sprang upright and scanned the room with their wands upraised.

“Where is he?” Fudge demanded, standing up and spinning around.

“He can't have Disapparated, you can't Disapparate from inside Hogwarts!” Umbridge cried.

“On it!” Proudfoot shouted.

He ran out of the room, wand upraised, closely followed by Dawlish. Umbridge made to go after them, but Fudge grabbed her arm.

“Let the Aurors track him, Dolores,” he said.

Umbridge had an ugly expression on her face, before she replaced it with a tight smile. “Of course, Minister,” she said in a simpering voice.

Fudge nodded at her once, then released her arm. “I have a far more important role for you.”

Umbridge straightened up eagerly. “Yes, Minster?”

Fudge smiled. “In light of Dumbledore's abandonment of his post, I am hereby making you Headmistress of Hogwarts.”

Harry was supremely grateful he'd started Occluding when he did, as it prevented him from responding with the anger that announcement deserved. Beside him, he felt Severus stiffen, though he said nothing.

McGonagall was not so restrained. “You are making _her_ Headmistress? We have a hierarchy here at Hogwarts, one which has been in place for -”

“Not anymore, you don't,” Fudge said angrily. “You may retain your position as Deputy Head, but Professor Umbridge will be Headmistress.”

Both Severus and McGonagall looked furious.

Umbridge stared at Fudge, slack-jawed, then smirked widely. “You may count on me to bring Hogwarts to heel, Minister.”

“You have my complete support, Dolores,” Fudge said. He looked at both McGonagall and Severus with an ugly expression, then jammed his bowler hat onto his head. “I'll sign the Decree as soon as I return to the Ministry.”

With that, he left the room. There was a tense silence, then Severus nudged Harry. “I'll escort you to the common room.”

“One moment, Professor Snape,” Umbridge called out sharply.

Severus paused in turning to the door. “Yes, Professor Umbridge?”

“It's Headmistress now,” she said with an ugly smile.

“Yes, Headmistress?” he ground out.

Umbridge's smile widened. “It occurs to me that your son has behaved abominably.”

Severus exhaled forcibly. “I believe the Minister for Magic just declared that Harry had not, in fact, broken any rules or decrees.”

“Not for lack of trying,” Umbridge shot back.

“What are you saying?” Severus demanded.

“I'm saying, Professor, that you have not adequately supervised your child,” Umbridge said.

Severus took a deep breath. “I shall endeavour to do so in the future, Headmistress.”

“Oh, you shall indeed,” Umbridge said, grinning gleefully. “I am hereby stripping you of the position of Head of Slytherin House.”

“You can't!” Harry cried.

“Silence, Mr Potter, or I'll give you detention,” Umbridge said, though the gleam in her eyes said she'd rather he protested again. “If your father cannot keep you in line, how can I possibly allow him to remain as a Head of House? No, he is to be demoted. Clearly, he cannot handle his teaching position as well as his Head of House responsibilities if he is to be a fit parent.”

Severus stared at her for a long moment, then met McGonagall's eyes and jerked his head. “As you wish, Headmistress.”

“Have you a replacement in mind?” McGonagall asked.

Umbridge tilted her head. “Professor Sinistra will do. I shall inform the school presently.”

“Very well,” Severus said stonily, then guided Harry out of the room.

McGonagall stalked out after them, and the three of them walked down the corridor together. No one said a word until they were on the sixth floor, where McGonagall stopped abruptly.

“She had no right, Severus,” she said savagely.

Severus' jaw was clenching with anger; he relaxed it with some difficulty. “It could have been worse, Minerva.”

“How?” asked Harry.

“You could have been expelled, or the Headmaster could have been arrested,” Severus said.

McGonagall made an impatient noise. “We will not stand for it, Severus. The rest of the staff and I, we know that you should remain as Head of Slytherin.”

“Just as you should have been made acting Headmistress,” Severus said bitterly. He took a breath then continued. “Much as I detest my demotion, I know that Aurora will take care of my snakes. What matters is that Umbridge is in charge of the school. If Dumbledore is incapable of continuing as Headmaster, the honour should have fallen to you, you know that as well as I.”

McGonagall inclined her head. “We have both been robbed tonight, it seems.”

“No, you haven't,” Harry said.

Both teachers looked at him in surprise.

“What do you mean?” asked Severus.

“I mean that none of us will accept Professor Sinistra as your replacement,” Harry said fiercely. “Not that there's anything wrong with her, but you're our Head of House, Dad. And three years ago, when Professor Dumbledore was sacked,” he said, turning to McGonagall, “you were acting Headmistress. We know how these things should work. Nothing Umbridge or Fudge or the Ministry can say can tell us otherwise.”

“That's all well and good, but times have changed. The Ministry's hold on this institution is growing stronger,” McGonagall cautioned him.

Harry raised his head stubbornly. “That's what they think.”

Severus pierced him with a hard stare. “You are not going to do anything stupid. I forbid you to go after Umbridge or any of the students she has working for her.”

“Dad -”

“Harry,” Severus said, lowering his voice and stepping closer, “you're lucky you weren't expelled tonight. Do not give her an excuse. It's not worth it.”

Harry scuffed a shoe in annoyance. “Okay, I promise.”

“Good. Come on, I'll escort you to the common room,” Severus said, then turned to McGonagall. “Will you join me for a drink?”

McGonagall nodded. “I'd say we both deserve one tonight.”

When Harry got back to his dorm he walked straight into the middle of an argument. Greg and Vince were pinned in one corner by the other three boys. All five had their wands drawn.

“- sell us out like that?” Blaise was demanding.

“We don't owe you shit,” Vince said, cracking his knuckles.

“Yeah, you haven't spoken to us all year,” Greg added.

“Whose fucking fault is that?” Theo snarled.

“We share a dorm, you morons. How dumb do you have to be to sell out your own dorm mates?” asked Draco.

“You're the ones who got caught. I reckon you're the dumb ones,” said Vince, sniggering.

“You're outnumbered two to one and you've just pissed us all off,” said Theo. “Even you two must be able to see that this isn't going to end well for you.”

Harry slammed the door shut behind himself and stalked over. “Don't, Theo.”

Everyone jerked around to look at him.

“Why not?” Theo asked sulkily.

Harry did his best to imitate Severus' most disdainful sneer as he looked at Greg and Vince. “Because they're not worth it.”


	27. In Which Umbridge Solidifies Her Position, but the Resistance is by no means Dead

Harry was still furious when he got up on Friday morning. He got dressed quickly, glaring over at Greg's and Vince's beds as he did so. He'd managed to diffuse the situation last night, despite the almost overwhelming urge to hex the pair of them.

While he waited for his friends to get up, Harry spent the next ten minutes apologising to Ladon, who was in a snit over the yelling of the night before. Eventually, Ladon decided to forgive him, and slithered down to join him on his bed.

“ _I can bite them for you if you want_ ,” Ladon offered.

“ _Thanks, but you'd only get in trouble_ ,” Harry said.

“It's still weird seeing you talking to Ladon,” Blaise said, buttoning up his robes.

“Draco and I have been talking Parseltongue for years in front of you,” Harry pointed out.

“I don't mean the Parseltongue. I mean the talking to a snake. You act like he has interesting things to say. Isn't it all just mice and rats?” Blaise continued.

Harry laughed. “He was trying to convince me to let him bite Vince and Greg just now.”

“Was he?” Blaise said admiringly. “I stand corrected.”

He and Harry shared a laugh, and a few minutes later they walked out of the dorm with Draco and Theo. When Draco pulled open the door to the common room they were assaulted with the sound of a lot of loud, angry conversations.

“What the hell?” Draco muttered.

Harry looked past him to see almost all the entire house was gathered in the common room, with the crowd thickest over by the noticeboard. He could just make out the tops of two more Educational Decrees pinned to the board. As the tallest of the four boys, Blaise walked over and craned his neck to read the notices.

“Just the Decrees making Sinistra Head of Slytherin, and the toad Headmistress,” he reported on his return. “And we've got a house meeting tonight.”

“Let's just get to breakfast,” Harry said, leading the way.

All anyone could talk about that morning was the events of the night before. The school as a whole wanted details on Dumbledore's escape from the Aurors, and as it had gotten out that Harry had been the only student there to witness it, he spent all of breakfast getting hounded for details. Not wanting to spend the entire day getting pestered, Harry simply told the entire story to Daphne, Tracey, Millicent and Pansy, trying to ignore the other Slytherins leaning over their shoulders. Everyone got progressively angrier as he went on, but at the end Pansy nodded and said she'd more than happy to be his official spokeswoman.

“This is the biggest story of the year, Potter, I'll do it far more justice than you ever could,” she said.

“And you love the attention,” Millicent added, pushing Tabitha's hand off her shoulder.

Pansy smirked up at Tabitha and put a possessive hand on Millicent's arm. “That too.”

Most of the school was incensed that Umbridge had been appointed Headmistress – especially the Gryffindors, who felt McGonagall's slight keenly – but the Slytherins, overall, were more enraged that Severus had been replaced by Sinistra.

The only students who seemed content were those who had been guarding the common room entrances the night before: Warrington, Montague, the Carrow twins, Miles, Xander, Agnes, Vince and Greg. They were clustered together at one end of the Slytherin table looking most pleased with themselves. There were also a couple of older Ravenclaws over at their own table, being given a wide berth by the rest of their house. Harry's lip curled as he watched them, then turned to the staff table.

Umbridge was sitting in the centre of it, in what should be Dumbledore's chair, sipping a cup of tea and smiling as she watched the unhappy students below her. On either side of her, McGonagall and Burbage had all but turned their backs on her in order to speak to their neighbours. Harry sought out Severus and found him talking to Sinistra. Neither looked at all happy, but Sinistra was nodding along calmly to whatever Severus was saying.

Harry's first class of the day was Transfiguration. McGonagall slammed the classroom door behind herself when she strode in, but apart from that, made no sign all lesson that she was put out by the previous night.

It was a different story in Defence, Harry's next class. Umbridge's smugness was so strong, Harry half-fancied he could physically feel it coming off her in waves. He spent the lesson Occluding and glaring down at the text he was copying out, barely taking in a single word. When the bell rang he immediately began shoving all his things into his bag in order to make a hasty exit.

“Mr Potter, stay behind,” Umbridge called.

Harry shared a panicked look with Draco. What was he in trouble for now? As the rest of the class filed out of the room, Harry stopped Occluding so that he could think properly.

“My office, Mr Potter,” Umbridge said once they were alone.

“Yes, Professor,” Harry said. 

He picked up his school bag and headed for the door.

“Did you misunderstand me? My office is up there,” Umbridge said, pointing up the stairs that lead to the Defence office.

“I assumed you meant the Headmaster's office, Professor,” Harry said in confusion.

“I have elected to retain this one for its convenience,” Umbridge said.

Despite her level voice, she turned a very interesting shade of red that made Harry suspect she had not had much of a choice in the matter. He bit the inside of his cheek to keep from smirking, then followed her up the stairs. He found the office the same as ever, save for a plaque on the front of her desk that read “HEADMISTRESS”.

“Sit,” Umbridge ordered.

Harry sat down and waited for the blow to fall.

“What would you like to drink?” Umbridge asked.

“Drink?” Harry repeated.

“Yes, Mr Potter, drink. Tea? Coffee? Pumpkin juice?”

As she mentioned each drink, she waved her wand and a cup or goblet of it appeared on her desk.

The hair on the back of Harry's neck prickled. “Nothing, thank you. I should be getting to lunch.”

“You can run along shortly, but right now, I want you to have a drink with me,” Umbridge said.

“Er, okay, tea then,” Harry said, watching Umbridge carefully.

Umbridge smiled widely and picked up the tea cup. She turned around and fussed about adding milk to it, her back to Harry the entire time. His suspicions were immediately aroused, given that he hadn't specified that he took milk in his tea.

“There you are. Drink up,” Umbridge said sweetly. “I'd like to talk to you about the upsetting events that took place last night.”

Harry took the proffered cup and waited for her to continue.

“You're not drinking!” she scolded.

Certain that his suspicions were correct, Harry raised the cup and sniffed it.

“What's the matter? Why are you smelling your tea?” Umbridge asked sharply.

“I'm trying to figure out what you put in it, Professor,” Harry said.

Umbridge tittered. “Tea and milk, Mr Potter. What else would I put in it?”

“Well, given that I can't smell anything odd, I'd say either an undetectable poison or Veritaserum,” Harry said, watching her more closely than ever.

She twitched when he said Veritaserum, then gave another little laugh. “What on earth makes you think I've put anything in your tea?”

Harry shrugged. “My dad's the Potions teacher. I can name ten different poisons you could have put in here, and tell you how long I'd have before the effects begin to take place.”

Umbridge's eyes narrowed. “Accusing a Ministry employee of poisoning you is a very serious offence, Mr Potter.”

“More serious than slipping Veritaserum to an unwilling minor?” Harry shot back.

Umbridge opened her mouth again, only to be interrupted by a distant explosion, so strong that the floor of the office shook. Harry could hear screams coming through the office door.

“Off to lunch, Potter!” Umbridge cried.

She held her wand up and ran out of the room. Harry gave her a head start, during which time he searched unsuccessfully for whatever she'd spiked his tea with, then followed her out into the corridor. The commotion was coming from the floor below him, and he hurried down the stairs to see what was happening. 

The air was filled with fireworks, some of which were very familiar. He recognised the firework-breathing dragons as Weasleys' Wizards Wheezes, but the twins had clearly been working hard on their range since Harry had last had some samples. He particularly liked the silver sparklers that wrote out swear words in the air. 

Umbridge and Filch were both standing on the stairs watching the fireworks with horror. “ _Stupefy!_ ” Umbridge shouted.

The firework she'd tried to Stun burst into ten other fireworks, all of which went careening off in different directions. 

“Don't Stun them, Filch!” Umbridge shouted.

“No, ma'am!” Filch shouted back, waving a mop at the closest rocket.

Chuckling to himself, Harry made his way down the corridor to a tapestry behind which he knew there was a secret passage. He ducked inside and found Fred and George shaking with laughter.

“Thought I'd find you here,” Harry said, pulling the tapestry flush behind himself.

“As if we'd miss her reaction,” said the closest twin.

“Too bad we don't have a camera, eh, George,” said Fred.

“Think she'll try to Vanish them next?” Harry sniggered.

“I hope so,” George replied. “She deserves it after last night.”

“No arguments here,” Harry said feelingly.

“Oh, hey, listen, Harry,” George said, turning serious. “I know we said we'd give you free samples as we perfected them, but we kinda need all our stock right now.”

“Sure, okay. How come?”

The twins looked at each.

“Well...” said Fred slowly. “We feel that Umbridge should _earn_ her position as Headmistress.”

“And we want to do something in Dumbledore's honour before we leave,” George added.

Harry grinned. “It's only March, that gives you, what, four months of mayhem before the end of the school year? I like it.”

“If we stay around that long,” Fred said quietly.

Harry's grin faded. “What do you mean?”

The twins looked at each other again. “We're not sure that we feel like sticking out the full year,” said Fred.

“But this is your last year! Don't you want to complete your NEWTs?” asked Harry.

Fred snorted. “Can't half tell that your dad's a teacher.”

“It's more that I'm friends with Hermione, actually,” Harry replied.

“Very true. As for NEWTs, well, it's not like we'll need them to set up our shop,” said George.

Fred shook his head. “We've learnt some handy stuff here. We don't need a piece of parchment to tell us that.”

“We'd like to finish out the Quidditch season,” George said thoughtfully, “but after that, I think we'll give Umbridge one last parting gift and be on our merry way.”

“What about your par – er, your mum?” Harry asked, kicking himself mentally.

Both twins' faces fell.

“She has more important things to worry about,” Fred finally said.

“And – and Dad always appreciated our pranks,” George said. “I think he would've enjoyed most of what we've got planned.”

********

  
Umbridge had certainly been busy during her first day as Headmistress. Apart from attempting to drug Harry, she'd spent most of her time chasing after the fireworks that were rampaging through the castle. The rest of the staff, save for Filch, had refused to help her, claiming they didn't want to overstep their bounds, which meant that Harry had sat through his only ever enjoyable History of Magic lesson. Two dragons and a Catherine wheel had gotten trapped in the classroom. Binns continued to lecture as if nothing was amiss, and the class had watched with amusement as one of the dragons seemed to delight in flying through the ghost. Binns had looked up the first time the dragon had passed through him, pursed his lips with displeasure, and went straight back to his lecture for the remainder of the lesson.

Less amusing was the creation of the Inquisitorial Squad. This was a group of students that Umbridge felt she could trust to help her police the rest of the student body. Everyone who had been guarding the common room entrances the night before was a member, and Umbridge had evidently recruited a few more older Ravenclaws during the day. Each member was given a small silver badge in the shape of an “I”, to be worn on their robes like a Prefect's badge. Unlike Prefects, however, they had the power to take house points off Prefects – something that was a great cause of resentment to the Prefects.

The Inquisitorial Squad was under Umbridge's protection, as Scarlett and Archie discovered the hard way. She and Archie had returned to their dorm the night before to find out that Hestia and Flora were behind the DA's betrayal. The twins had gloatingly told them how they had noticed Scarlett and Archie going missing so often, and after realising that many other Slytherins were missing at the same time, the Carrows had gone straight to Umbridge, who had then sprung her trap.

After hearing their explanation, Scarlett and Archie had hexed both twins, eventually Stunning them and leaving them on the floor overnight. When they eventually woke up they ran straight to Umbridge, who sentenced Scarlett to a week of detention. Scarlett and Archie had gotten back from her office in matching foul moods, with Scarlett swearing vengeance on both the Carrows and Umbridge.

Immediately after dinner the Slytherins returned to their common room to await their house meeting. Tensions were running high. By lunch time, everyone had heard about the real reasons behind both Severus' replacement and Dumbledore's escape – and the part certain students had played in the entire affair.

Slytherin, as a whole, seemed to be split fairly evenly between students who supported Harry and those who supported Umbridge. The one thing they agreed on was that Severus shouldn't have been replaced as Head of Slytherin – but whether Harry or Umbridge should be blamed for that depended on who you asked. And no one had any qualms about making their opinions known – loudly.

“SILENCE!”

Everyone jumped at the sudden roar, heard over the sounds of thirty-odd different arguments, and turned to find Severus and Sinistra standing in the entrance to the common room, glaring around the room.

Severus pointed his wand at his own throat. “ _Quietus_.” He lowered his wand and continued to glare. “Everyone will sit down and listen in silence to what Professor Sinistra and I have to say. Any interruption will earn the perpetrator a detention, do I make myself clear?”

Everyone nodded, and those who had been standing quickly found seats on the couches or the floor. Even Harry was somewhat intimidated by Severus' evident anger, and that was without factoring in Sinistra's clear displeasure.

“You are all aware that Professor Umbridge has decided to remove me as your Head of House, and to replace me with Professor Sinistra,” Severus began.

There was more nodding at this, though no one was stupid enough to make a sound.

“Obviously, you all have strong feelings about this staffing alteration. You would all do well to keep the following points in mind,” Severus continued. “I did not abandon my responsibilities to you willingly. I am, and always will be, a Slytherin. The same goes for Professor Sinistra, who did not choose to usurp my position. Just as students must obey the staff at Hogwarts, so too must the staff obey the Headmistress.”

“I heard that, Miss Bainbridge. Detention for both you and Mr Bletchley,” Sinistra said sharply.

Everyone swivelled to see Tabitha and Miles glaring at each other.

“Now, then,” Sinistra said in a more moderate tone. “I may not have asked for this position, but I assure you that I will do my best to perform my duties as well as Professor Snape has done. While I am Head of Slytherin, I will move into a new office on the second floor, as my current one is too far away from your common room. I'll be taking over the empty office next door to Professor Burbage's office, and expect to have it set up over the weekend. You may come to me with any concerns you may have, as you previously did with Professor Snape. Professor Snape will, unfortunately, be unable to talk to you about anything non-related to Potions, as per Educational Decree Number Twenty-Seven.”

When there was more silent nodding at this, both teachers visibly relaxed. 

“Are there any questions?” asked Sinistra.

Manami put up her hand hesitantly.

Sinistra turned to her. “Yes, Miss Ichijoh?”

“How come you're allowed to talk to us about all this, ma'am? Isn't this against that Decree?”

“The Headmistress has given us leave to discuss this issue with you this evening,” said Sinistra. “She would have come down here herself, but she is currently engaged in clearing up the fireworks still plaguing the school. Anything else?”

Theo put his hand up. “Professor Snape, what if we need to talk to you about Potions?”

“I will continue to use my current office, Mr Nott,” Severus said. When no one else put their hand up, he nodded once. “Very well. Get back to your studies.”

He followed Sinistra out of the common room. The moment the entrance sealed itself behind them, everyone began talking at once. Not wanting to sit through any more arguments, Harry, Draco, Blaise, Theo and the fifth year girls all retreated to the boys' dorm, where they spent the rest of the evening playing poker and sharing a bottle of Firewhisky that Millicent had smuggled in from their last Hogsmeade weekend. No one mentioned anything remotely related to Umbridge, the Inquisitorial Squad, or any teachers for the remainder of the night.

********

  
After breakfast on Saturday morning, Harry headed down to visit Severus in his office. He grabbed his Potions textbook on the way, in case there was anyone around, but he found Severus alone, busy with a pile of marking.

“Great speech last night,” Harry said from the doorway. 

Severus looked up and smirked. “Thank you. I was wondering how long before you came to see me.”

Harry held up his textbook with a grin. “Don't worry, I have a cover story.”

Severus nodded approvingly. “Good thinking. Come in, but leave the door open. Since the staff are prohibited from discussing anything outside of our subjects, we are not allowed to shut our office doors when speaking with a student.”

“Paranoid little toad, isn't she?” Harry said, walking over to his usual chair.

Severus flicked his wand at the doorway. “Privacy charm,” he explained, then leaned back in his chair. “How is Slytherin this morning?”

“Better than yesterday. What you and Sinistra said really helped,” Harry said.

Severus inclined his head. “We did not want Slytherins to harbour resentment towards either one of us. What better way to prevent that than by presenting a united front?”

“Plus you blamed it all on Umbridge,” Harry said with a laugh.

“That too.”

“How are the rest of the staff taking it?” asked Harry.

“Angry but resigned, though the castle's rejection of Umbridge has caused rather a lot of much needed amusement among us,” Severus said.

“What do you mean?”

Severus' smirk widened. “Umbridge is unable to get into Albus' office. The gargoyle refuses to allow her entrance. It's not just the castle that refuses to acknowledge her as Headmistress. The ghosts still view Albus as the rightful Headmaster – even Peeves.”

“Huh. So that's why she took me into the Defence office yesterday,” said Harry.

“What did you do now?” Severus demanded.

“Nothing! And no thanks to you, I might add,” Harry shot back. “She dragged me in there to give me Veritaserum! Doesn't take a genius to figure out where she got it from.”

“Oh, that,” Severus said, waving a hand. “I gave her a vial of water. She can't tell the difference.”

“I didn't know that at the time,” Harry replied.

“What did she try to question you about?” asked Severus.

“No idea. I refused to drink it,” Harry said with a shrug.

“You refused?”

“Why the hell would I accept a drink from someone I know hates me, and who acted really suss about adding milk? Give me some credit!” Harry cried. “When she pressed me, I sniffed it, and when I smelled nothing but tea I assumed it had to be either Veritaserum or an odourless poison, so I asked her which one it was. I figured it was Veritaserum from how she reacted.”

Severus smiled at him. “Impressive logic, Harry. I'm proud of you.”

“Thanks,” Harry said, beaming, then a thought occurred to him. “Weren't you going to teach me how to use Occlumency against Veritaserum?”

Severus nodded. “Yes, but I had to change my entire lesson plan when it proved more difficult to teach you Occlumency than I had anticipated. We'll get to that over summer – Umbridge won't try the same thing twice. Now, I'm glad you're here. I wanted to talk to you about security in your dorm.”

“Really? Vince and Greg don't spend a lot of time in the dorm anymore. They pretty much just come in to sleep,” said Harry.

“Nevertheless, there are two charms that I want you to learn,” said Severus. “I also want you to pass these spells on to Scarlett and Archana, as obviously I am unable to talk to them about any subjects other than Potions.”

“Okay.”

“The first is a variation of the Shield Charm. Instead of throwing up a personal shield that will protect the caster for a short period of time, it will protect a larger area, even when the caster is asleep. Cast properly, you will be able to prevent Crabbe or Goyle from hexing any of you as you sleep,” said Severus.

“I doubt they'd try anything,” said Harry.

Severus merely raised an eyebrow. “The incantation is _protego totalum_. Hold your non-wand hand up, palm outward, like so,” Severus demonstrated. “An invisible barrier will be erected. Cast properly, you will be able to prevent either of them from stepping foot through.”

“So, because they have the beds closest to the door, we can block them from our beds and all our stuff,” Harry summarised.

“Precisely.”

“Great. What's the other charm?”

“It's called a Muffling Charm. The incantation is _muffliato_ , and you simply need to point and wave around yourself, between you and anyone who may try to eavesdrop on you. Their ears will be filled with an indistinct buzzing noise, rendering them incapable of overhearing your conversation, though more subtly than a standard privacy spell would,” Severus explained.

“Sounds good.”

“Thank you.”

Something about Severus' tone struck Harry as odd. “What's so special about this spell?”

“I invented it,” Severus said smugly.

Harry's eyebrows shot up. “You _invented_ a spell?”

“Yes.”

“When? How?” Harry asked, gobsmacked.

“The summer I bought Fen House. I was completely alone for the first time, and needed something to occupy my thoughts at night,” Severus said quietly. “As for the how, well, I liked to experiment. Mostly with different potions, but I dabbled with spell creation.”

“Wow,” Harry breathed.

To his surprise, Severus reddened. “It helped me with my NEWTs.”

“Most people just re-read their notes,” Harry said.

“Speaking of revision, the Easter break is coming up,” Severus said.

“Er, yeah,” said Harry, wondering where this was going.

“For the first time in my teaching career, I'm not Head of Slytherin, which means I can go home for the holiday,” said Severus. “I'd like for you to come with me, though the choice of course is yours.”

“Sure,” Harry said at once.

“You needn't come on my account. It would mean you were leaving the library here behind, which could impede your exam revision,” Severus cautioned.

Harry snorted. “Right, 'cause we don't have books at home. More importantly, I'll have access to a private potions lab _and_ unrestricted access to the Potions teacher. I'd be an idiot to pass this up.”

********

  
The day before Good Friday, Harry got onto the Hogwarts Express along with everyone else who was leaving for the Easter break. Draco was going to Grimmauld Place, but Hermione had decided to stay at Hogwarts, along with Tracey and Theo. Harry had no doubt that they'd spend every possible hour studying in the library. Draco was nervous about staying at Grimmauld Place, given his past experiences there, but Narcissa had assured him that she'd had the elves set up a bedroom for him. It would be the first time they'd met in person since Malfoy had tried to kill Narcissa, and Draco was determined to see his mother.

It was an uneventful train ride, the highlight being when Harry, Draco, Archie and Scarlett ended up changing compartments because Ginny and Blaise refused to stop snogging in the corner of their original one. When Harry disembarked at King's Cross, he found Severus standing on the platform with Narcissa. He waited patiently as she swept first Draco then Harry into tight hugs.

“Sirius has asked me to tell you that he'd like to take you out on his bike while you're home,” she said to Harry. “He would have come today, but it's the full moon tonight, so he's busy looking after Remus.”

Harry nodded. “That's okay, isn't it, Dad?”

“I suppose. But only once. You need to focus on studying,” Severus said.

Harry grinned, then turned to Draco. “Borrow Sirius' mirror and we can talk.”

“Count on it,” Draco replied.

Harry and Severus spent the rest of the day settling back into Fen House. Once they'd unpacked and had dinner, they settled down in front of the fire, where Harry tried to make sense of his History of Magic notes and Severus worked through a pile of marking. It was tedious, but as Severus consented to Harry putting the record player on, Harry supposed it could have been worse. At least it's better than Occlumency practice, he told himself. 

The next morning, Severus dragged Harry outside to work on the garden. It was less overgrown than it was over summer, only just beginning to green up after winter, but there was still a lot of work to be done. Severus spent the entire time grilling Harry on the various plants they were tending, demanding he list what potions they could be used in as well as demonstrate the correct way to prune or fertilise them. It was hard work, but Harry couldn't deny that it would come in handy for both his Herbology and Potions exams.

That afternoon Harry was sitting up in the oak tree with Ladon, reading some Astronomy notes, when he heard Draco calling him. He quickly climbed out of the tree but didn't see anyone, so went into the house. Severus was sitting in an armchair reading, though he looked up when Harry crashed through the front door.

“Where's Draco?” he asked, looking at the fireplace, half expecting to see Draco stepping out of the Floo.

“I would assume he is at Grimmauld Place, though I cannot say for certain,” Severus said slowly.

Harry stared at him. “You didn't hear him?”

“Hear Draco?”

“He was calling my name,” Harry said.

Severus shut his book, carefully marking his place. “Harry, have you -”

“Harry Potter!”

Harry's head snapped towards the stairs; it was coming from the first floor. “You have to have heard him that time!”

Severus frowned. “No.”

A sudden thought struck him, and Harry ran upstairs to his room. He opened his desk drawer and pulled out his magical mirror, which had Draco's face floating in it.

“About bloody time,” he said.

“I was up in the oak tree,” Harry protested.

Draco's eyebrows shot up. “You heard me from there?”

“Yeah. Dad couldn't hear a thing, though, it was weird. Hang on a sec,” said Harry, then put the mirror down on his bed and walked over to his door. “It was just Draco using Sirius' mirror! I'm not going crazy!” he called down the hallway.

“Good to know,” came Severus' faint reply.

Harry shut the door and picked up the mirror again, and settled down on his bed. “So how's Grimmauld Place?”

“It's odd,” Draco said slowly. “It's definitely improved since summer, that's for sure. Mother's house-elves have been having a ball cleaning it, apparently. Oh, and I've taken over your room.”

Harry just laughed. “You're welcome to it.”

Draco grinned. “You'll never guess what I did last night.”

“Played chess with your mum?”

“Well – yes – but that's not what I meant! I spent a few hours with a werewolf!” Draco said excitedly. Even with the mirror only showing Draco's face and neck, Harry could tell he was sitting up proudly.

Harry's eyebrows shot up. “You were with Remus during the full moon?”

“Well, _technically_ Remus was just a normal wolf, since he'd taken his Wolfsbane, but still. That counts. It's not just Gryffindors who can socialise with werewolves on the full moon,” Draco said.

“What did you do?” Harry asked curiously.

“Talked to him, mostly. I asked Sirius how Remus was after dinner, and he said I should go up and see him myself. He likes company when he's a wolf, you see, helps him keep his humanity. Usually it's Sirius, but Mother and Kingsley sometimes go up, too,” said Draco. “I wasn't allowed to see him transform – he doesn't like anyone seeing that, not even Sirius – but as soon as he was in his wolf form I was allowed to join him. I told him some of what we'd done during term, and then read my Defence notes out loud to him. He was able to tell me if I was on the right track or not by whimpering or wagging his tail. He acted more human than Sirius does in his Animagus form, actually.”

Harry laughed. “Sounds about right.”

“He's not that great today,” Draco said, suddenly downcast. “He still hasn't gotten out of bed.”

Harry grimaced sympathetically. “You knew it takes a lot out of him. You saw that when he was at Hogwarts.”

“Yes, but back then he was just a teacher. Now he's my uncle's boyfriend and I see him all the time over the holidays. It sucks to see him like this,” Draco mumbled.

“Yeah... but, hey, at least you spent some time with him last night. That must've helped, right?” Harry suggested.

“I guess. God, can you imagine how bored he must've been, being a wolf at Hogwarts? Just stuck in his office all alone?” Draco shuddered. “Nothing to do... It's not like he could read...”

“Or go flying...”

“No magic.”

“Not even any wanking.”

“It must've been brilliant when Sirius got out of Azkaban, and Remus had someone to keep him company during the full moon,” Draco mused.

“And it wouldn't hurt that Sirius can turn into a large dog on command,” Harry replied.

Draco screwed his nose up. “Do you really think they do that?” 

“Do what?”

“Have sex as animals.”

“ _What?_ When did I say they did _that?_ ” Harry cried.

“You implied it,” Draco sniffed.

“I didn't mean to!” Harry said vehemently, then cocked his head. “Do you think they do?”

“I think if they got bored enough they might be up for it,” said Draco.

They both sniggered at the double entendre. Then Harry began to actually think about what they'd just said, and stopped laughing. In the mirror, Draco's face was showing the exact same mixture of confused disgust as he supposed his own was.

“This conversation just got really weird,” Draco said.

“I'll say.”

There was a short silence, then Draco cleared his throat. “What did you do last night?”

Harry eagerly latched onto the change of topic. “Studied. Same as today. Downside of having a teacher for a dad, I guess.”

Draco smirked. “True, but just think about how jealous Hermione must be of you.”

********

  
Exhausted by an Easter break spent studying and brewing under Severus' strict guidance, Harry slept for most of the train ride back to Hogwarts. He was still somewhat groggy when he walked into the common room and joined Theo and the girls by a window. They had a pile of brightly coloured pamphlets spread out on the floor between themselves.

“What's all this?” Blaise asked, sitting down beside Harry.

“Careers advice,” Tracey said, briefly raising her head out of a pamphlet entitled _See the World Through the Department of International Magical Cooperation_.

“All fifth years have a meeting with their Head of House to discuss their future careers. Schedule's on the noticeboard,” Millicent elaborated.

Harry got up and went over to find that his meeting was on Friday at three-thirty. Grinning at the thought of getting out of History of Magic early, he returned to his friends to find them discussing what they wanted to do.

“This sounds interesting,” Tracey said, waving her pamphlet. “Thanks to Mum, I'm fluent in Mandarin, so I'd have a huge advantage.”

“Would you really want to work for the Ministry, though?” Daphne asked sceptically, picking up a pamphlet from the Wizengamot Administration office and flipping through it unenthusiastically.

“Not if they're all like Umbridge, no,” Tracey said.

“You could work to change them from within,” Theo suggested.

Harry sat quietly as his friends mused aloud about their careers. Pansy was considering going to work for her mother at _Witch Weekly_ ; Millicent wanted to work with magical creatures; Theo wanted an academic career, though was unsure of what specific area he wanted to work in; Daphne had no idea other than she wouldn't be working for the Ministry; and Blaise just said he wanted somewhere with attractive co-workers.

“I'd like to do something with languages, maybe translation,” said Draco. “Harry?”

“I liked teaching you guys in the DA...” Harry said quietly, then shrugged. “Dunno. I wouldn't mind playing Quidditch. Viktor said I could be good enough if I trained properly.”

“You wouldn't be able to play for the Harpies, though,” Millicent pointed out.

“Try out for the Falcons,” Draco said at once.

Harry smiled and busied himself with picking up a handful of pamphlets. He couldn't help feeling that this might all just be a waste of time for him. How much of a future did he really have, if Voldemort was determined to kill him? Even if he somehow lived long enough to graduate from Hogwarts, surely any future employers would be wary of hiring someone Voldemort was trying to kill.

********

  
At quarter past three on Friday, Harry packed up his school things and left History of Magic, glad to be out of the boring classroom. Not long now before I can drop it entirely, he thought with a grin.

His grin faded when he walked down a staircase and came face to face with Miles.

“What are you doing out of class, Snape?” he sneered.

“You know, as far as insults go, calling me 'Snape' is pretty pathetic,” Harry said.

Miles' eyes narrowed. “If you weren't in my house I'd take house points off you for that.”

“Yeah, but we _are_ in the same house, so that's kinda an empty threat,” Harry snapped. “Can I go now? I need to see Sinistra.”

Miles stepped forward so that he towered over Harry. “I'll be watching you,” he said, before turning and continuing down the corridor.

“I'm so scared,” Harry said sarcastically, now in a bad mood. He'd never particularly liked Miles, but they'd played on the Quidditch team together for years, and Miles had never been antagonistic towards him like this.

Sinistra's door was open when Harry got there. Sinistra was sitting at her desk, on which was spread out a collection of career pamphlets, neatly stacked and alphabetised. She looked up when she heard Harry approaching.

“Ah, Mr Potter. Right on time. Come in and have a seat,” she said.

Harry walked in and sat down in front of her desk, looking around the office curiously. He'd never gone to her old one before, but he supposed this is what an Astronomy teacher's office would look like. There were detailed star maps and lunar charts stuck to the walls, and on a small table in the corner, was a perfect replica of the solar system. The tiny planets and moons were made out of gem stones that glittered in the firelight as they revolved around the golden sun.

And seated in the other corner was Umbridge, her clipboard sitting on her knee and a smirk firmly plastered on her face.

Sinistra cleared her throat, making Harry turn back around to face her. He was surprised to see how old she was. He had only ever been this close to her during Astronomy class, where she had a strict policy of keeping the tower dark so that everyone could better see the skies. Here in her well-lit office, he could see that her dark skin was beginning to wrinkle around her eyes and mouth. She looked like she was at least ten years older than Severus, though Harry supposed the tightness around her eyes may be due to Umbridge's presence. Her quiet sigh supported that theory, though she smiled warmly at Harry.

“Now then, Mr Potter. This meeting is your opportunity to talk about which subjects you want to continue in your sixth and seventh years, in order to facilitate your career prospects. Have you given any thought to what you might like to do after you graduate?”

Behind him, Harry heard Umbridge writing on her clipboard.

“Er, a little,” he said, trying to focus on Sinistra. “I've thought about playing Quidditch professionally.”

Sinistra nodded thoughtfully. “That doesn't really have any bearing on which subjects you should continue with after this year, but I think... Ah, here we are,” she said, sliding out a pamphlet on Quidditch. She flipped it open and scanned it quickly. “As I expected. Most British teams will prefer that a potential recruit have some experience. You've been on the Slytherin team since your first year here, so that stands you in good stead... You've always flown well – I think the only time you didn't catch the Snitch was when the pitch was invaded by Dementors, correct?”

The scratching of Umbridge's quill faltered for a second before continuing.

“Er, I think so, Professor,” Harry said.

Sinistra nodded briskly. “Your fame would help you secure a try-out, but having a contact with a club would be beneficial as well.”

Harry shrugged. “I'm friends with Viktor Krum, but I don't know if he knows anyone in the British league...”

“Wouldn't hurt to ask him if you're serious about this as a career,” Sinistra said. “Being Captain of the Slytherin team would also look good, and after Mr Pucey graduates this year, you'll be the most senior player of the current line up. As your Head of House, I can tell you right now that if it were up to me, you'd be my first pick for next year's Captain.”

“Really? Thanks, Professor!” Harry said.

“Hem, hem.”

Sinistra looked past Harry. “Yes, Headmistress?”

Harry turned around to find Umbridge smiling at them. “I merely wanted to remind you that, while a Head of House may nominate a Quidditch Captain or Prefect, the ultimate decision is up to the current Head of Hogwarts. Frankly, I don't think Mr Potter is suited for a leadership position.”

Harry's heart sank. He'd never thought about who would take over Adrian's role as Captain, but now that Sinistra had said he'd be her first choice, he wanted the position desperately.

“You heard Professor Umbridge, Mr Potter,” Sinistra calmly. Harry turned back to find her looking at him intently. “While she remains as Headmistress, you will not become Captain of the Slytherin Quidditch team.”

Her gaze intensified, and Harry had to stifle a smirk when he got her meaning: she didn't think Umbridge would be at Hogwarts for much longer. “No, ma'am,” he said, doing his best to sound subdued. He thought he saw a ghost of a smile on Sinsitra's face before she continued.

“Quidditch would, of course, be a short-lived career. Most players retire in their thirties. Do you have an idea of what you'd do after that? Coaching? Management?”

“Er, not exactly...” Harry said. He took a breath, then quickly said, “I've thought about teaching.”

To his surprise, Sinistra just nodded. “Yes, your father told me you'd mentioned something about that – yes, Headmistress?”

Umbridge stopped pretending to cough and straightened up in her chair. “These meetings are supposed to be between fifth year students and their Head of House, not their parents.”

“They are,” Sinistra agreed. “However, since you have decided you can sit in on Mr Potter's meeting with me, I decided that I could tell him about a conversation I had with his father, who happens to be both a friend and colleague of mine.”

Umbridge turned red and bent back over her clipboard.

“Now then, Mr Potter. What would you like to teach?” Sinistra asked. There was a definite sparkle in her brown eyes now.

“Defence, Professor,” Harry said, waiting for the coughing to resume.

“Mr Potter,” Umbridge said, in her most sugary and dangerous voice, “that position is already taken.”

“For now, yes,” Sinistra said.

“Professor Sinistra, are you implying that I may be replaced as the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher?” Umbridge demanded.

“Not at all, Headmistress. I merely meant that Mr Potter will not graduate for another two years. I would not presume to know where your career ambitions may take you in that time. This meeting is, after all, designed for me to help Harry with _his_ career,” Sinistra said smoothly.

Out of the corner of his eye Harry saw Umbridge snap her mouth shut and lower her eyes to her clipboard, writing furiously. Sinistra's mouth tightened momentarily, but when she spoke again, her voice was as level as ever.

“Well, Mr Potter, Hogwarts is not the only school you could teach at. There are always foreign schools – have you any fluency in another language?”

“Just Parseltongue, which wouldn't really help,” Harry said.

“No, I don't think it would,” Sinistra said, chuckling lightly. “That limits your options, but there are plenty of other schools where they speak English – Australia, South Africa, and North America all have magical schools you might like to try.”

Harry nodded. “I hadn't thought I'd have to go so far away from home, but yeah, I guess I could do that. So what subjects should I take?”

Sinistra spread her hands out. “That's up to you, really. Defence Against the Dark Arts, naturally.” She paused and opened a large folder, peering down at a piece of parchment within it. “You have maintained consistently high grades in that subject -”

“Professor Sinistra, I believe you have overlooked my notes on Mr Potter's grades in that subject over the last year,” Umbridge interrupted. 

Sinistra pulled out a piece of pink parchment. “I stand corrected, Mr Potter. Your marks in this subject were superb up until this year. I'm not sure what happened to bring about this decline in your grades, but do your best to get over it, do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, Professor,” Harry said, again fighting to keep a straight face.

“Very well. As for the rest of your subjects, well, there are no black and white rules on which subjects a professor should have studied, other than the one they are teaching, of course, so I'd say go with what you like,” Sinistra said, then glanced back down at the parchment. “Your Potions marks are outstanding – though unsurprising, given your father... Your Herbology marks are nearly as high, no doubt due to the overlap between those two subjects.”

Harry nodded. “Yeah, I want to continue both of those. Also Transfiguration and Charms.”

Sinistra consulted his file again. “You'll need to work on Transfiguration. You're currently averaging between an Acceptable and an Exceeds Expectations, and Professor McGonagall won't take anyone with less than an Exceeds Expectations. Your Charms marks are sufficient to continue... Would you want to continue any other subjects?”

Harry shifted uncomfortably. “I don't really... I'd thought about continuing with Care of Magical Creatures, but when I told Dad that, he said I'd be better off doing Astronomy, because it could help with Potions.”

To Harry's surprise, Sinistra sat back in her chair. “I think you'd be better off dropping Astronomy,” she said.

“Pardon?” Harry asked, dumbfounded.

Sinistra chuckled. “Oh, your marks in my subject are acceptable, but that's all they are: Acceptable. While I will allow anyone with a passing grade to enter my NEWT classes, I do prefer that they have an enthusiasm for Astronomy that extends beyond 'my parents said I should do it'.”

“What about Hagrid?”

“Professor Hagrid will accept anyone who wishes to continue the subject,” Sinistra said with a smile. “Really, I'd say it comes down to how much work you can handle. The workload will increase from this year, so just have a think about how many subjects you think you could study without burning out. Believe me when I say that you will find it easier to continue with subjects that you genuinely enjoy, rather than taking subjects to appease either Professors Snape or Hagrid.”

The scratching of Umbridge's quill was faster than ever behind Harry, but he nodded. “I understand, Professor. Thank you.”

“You're welcome, Mr Potter,” Sinistra said. “Leave the door open on your way out.”

Harry nodded and left without looking at Umbridge. As he set off down the corridor, he heard Umbridge cough again.

“Professor Sinistra, I have a few concerns I'd like to talk to you about.”

“By all means, Headmistress,” Sinistra said wearily.

Harry briefly considered lagging behind to eavesdrop on their conversation, but the arrival of Mrs Norris hastened him away, his mind whirling. He was almost sorry he was probably going to drop Astronomy: he suddenly had a new found respect for Sinistra.


	28. In Which the Trio Meet Hagrid's Family, and the Weasley Twins Make Umbridge's Life Hell

As April progressed, the Weasley twins stepped up their campaign against Umbridge. The second week after Easter break, Umbridge returned to her office to find it had been redecorated. Gone were the fussy doilies and the recently repaired kitten plates. In their place were Muggle posters – sporting teams, singers and rock bands, even a few bikini models – that the twins had clearly sourced from the Muggle-borns in Gryffindor.

In addition to the posters, the twins had also somehow hidden a gramophone in there and charmed it to play the Weird Sisters non-stop at full volume. For the rest of the week, Umbridge's classes could hear the Weird Sisters playing from her office, until she finally figured out how to stop it.

The next week, Umbridge spent a few hours stuck under a cloud that rained glitter down on her wherever she went. It took her less time to deal with the cloud than the ear-splitting music, but just like Muggle glitter, the twins' proved incredibly hard to shift. A fortnight later Umbridge still had the occasional piece winking from her hair or clothes, and Filch could be found trying to mop it up from the floor.

Harry couldn't spend all his time laughing at Umbridge. Apart from the never ending studying for his OWLs, the Slytherin Quidditch team ramped up their training schedule, until they were meeting daily. They were due to play Hufflepuff on the second weekend of May, and both teams knew they were playing for the cup.

The changing room before the match was thick with nervous tension. Harry sat quietly, watching Draco pace up and down, while Millicent repeatedly hit her leg with her Beater's bat, and Scarlett fairly vibrated in her seat.

“Alright, team,” Adrian said, walking into the room. “This is going to be a tough one. They've been flying brilliantly all year, and from what I've been able to see when I spied on their last training session, they're going to be even better than they were when they slaughtered Gryffindor. Unless we can somehow win by more than three hundred and twenty points, we won't get the cup.”

“Did you learn anything useful when you were spying on 'em?” Malcolm asked.

“Yeah. You've all seen how big their Beaters have been getting the last few months – well, their accuracy has increased along with their muscles – so Millicent and Theo, you'll have your work cut out for you – and whatever you do, do _not_ get hit by one of their Bludgers,” Adrian said with a shudder. “Apart from that, they seem to be playing their Keeper pretty far forward, so Scar and Draco, we'll have less time to manoeuvre before we reach him, but if we can get around him, scoring will be a cinch.”

“Sure thing, boss,” Scarlett said.

Adrian nodded. “And Harry. Normally I'd tell you not to catch the Snitch unless it would win us the cup as well as the game, but... This is my last game here at Hogwarts, and I'm not going to fucking lose it, alright? Try not to catch it too early, but if Diggory looks like he's going to get it, you bloody well stop him, alright?”

“I will,” Harry promised.

Adrian nodded again. “One last thing before we go out... Just wanted to say thanks. You guys have been a bloody fantastic team over the past few years and it's been an absolute blast flying with you all.”

“Well, you've been a great Captain,” Harry said.

“The best!” Scarlett cried.

“We'll win it for you today,” Millicent said.

Adrian smiled. “Cheers. Alright, let's go crush these badgers!”

They walked out onto the pitch to the usual mixture of cheers and boos from the crowd. The team lined up opposite the Hufflepuffs while Hooch got Adrian and Cedric to shake hands. Seconds later she blew her whistle and the teams were flying up into the air. 

Harry kept his eyes on Cedric as they both rose up above the rest of the players. As Harry had been expecting, Cedric was hovering in one spot, halfway between the two sets of goals. With a sigh, Harry drifted closer to him, resigned to a game spent mostly in one spot. At least he could listen to the commentary while he waited.

“And Smith is heading for goal. He dodges a Bludger from Bulstrode – nearly drops the Quaffle, but he doesn't pass to fellow Chaser Cadwallader – _oh!_ ” Lee shouted excitedly. “What a steal from Pucey! I don't think anyone saw him coming! Smith certainly didn't. Brilliant bit of flying from Pucey in his last game here at Hogwarts. It's Diggory's last game too – I think we can expect some fancy flying from these two today!”

Harry saw Cedric's jaw clench a second before he took off on a easy lap around the pitch. Harry shadowed him at a short distance, stopping when Cedric did.

“Are you intending on looking for the Snitch yourself at all?” Cedric called.

“Course I am,” Harry replied.

Cedric snorted and half-turned away from Harry, scanning the pitch. Harry just shrugged and settled in to listen to the commentary. From the sounds of things it was a fast-paced match; they'd only been playing a few minutes and it was already twenty to ten, in Hufflepuff's favour.

Ten minutes later he saw a glimmer out of the corner of his eye. Trying not to alert Cedric, Harry turned his head to see the Snitch hovering near the Slytherin goals. Harry turned back to Cedric and found him looking in the opposite direction, but slowly turning his head as he scanned the pitch. A few more seconds and he'd be facing the Snitch.

Harry decided to take a risk and sped forward, towards Cedric. As he hoped, Cedric's head snapped to watch Harry shoot past, then he yanked his broom around to follow. Harry tightened his grip on his broom, flattened himself along the handle, and dropped into a steep dive. He picked up speed as he descended, until all he could hear was the air rushing past him as the earth rose up to meet him.

At the very last second Harry pulled out of the dive and rose back up into the air, rising past Cedric, who had pulled out of the dive earlier than he had.

“Are you trying to kill us?” Cedric asked angrily.

“You didn't have to follow me,” Harry pointed out.

Cedric swore and swung his broom around and took off, with Harry following closely once more.

Down in the commentary box, Lee gave a cry of excitement over the shouts of the crowd. “And Potter's just pulled off a Wronski Feint! I guess he got bored trailing after Diggory all match – Diggory doesn't look to pleased with him. And Slytherin's got the Quaffle, Black passes to Lympsham, who passes to Pucey – who scores! So it's seventy – forty, Slytherin still trailing.”

Cedric was moving around the pitch more now, doing his best to ignore Harry who was sticking as close as he could. He couldn't help but watch the rest of the game every now and then. Both teams were playing incredibly well, but Hufflepuff seemed to have the advantage, just like they had all season. 

“What a close call there! Lympsham ducks not one but _two_ Bludgers and drops the Quaffle – nice teamwork by the Hufflepuff Beaters – and Cadwallader's heading for goal. The Slytherin Chasers are scrambling to mount a defence but I don't think they can – Baddock can't quite get there either, and Cadwallader scores! That brings us to eighty – fifty. Slytherin are going to have to improve their game if they don't want to let Hufflepuff run away with this match.”

Just then, Cedric banked hard to the right and sped up. Harry followed immediately. Either he'd seen the Snitch and Harry needed to catch it before he did, or Cedric was trying to get revenge for the Wronski Feint, and Harry was fairly certain he could overcome whatever evasive manoeuvres Cedric tried.

After a few seconds, however, he caught sight of the Snitch fluttering madly as it fled away from Cedric's grasp. Harry swore and leant closer to his Firebolt, urging it to speed up. Cedric had begun the chase with a good ten metre advantage on Harry, which cancelled out the speed advantage his Firebolt gave him.

Luck was on Harry's side. Now that it had both Seekers haring after it, the Snitch apparently decided it was time to start ducking and weaving more than it had previously been. Harry was better suited to this sort of chase than Cedric was. Apart from his experience on an actual broom, Harry had spent the past six months practising the same sort of movements for his Occlumency shield, and he found that it was actually coming in handy for anticipating the Snitch's path.

Even so, Cedric still put up a hell of a fight. The Snitch had led the Seekers to one end of the pitch, where it darted through the far right Slytherin goal hoop, before Harry was able to duck around Cedric and close his fingers around the little metal ball.

“And Potter's caught the Snitch!” Lee yelled, sending the crowd screaming. “Slytherin wins the game – but Hufflepuff wins the cup! I've never seen anything like it! Slytherin wins the match with two hundred points to Hufflepuff's ninety, but unless Gryffindor or Ravenclaw score big – and I mean _big_ – in their match, Hufflepuff have just won the cup!”

Harry flew down to join his team mates, who had converged on the pitch in one giant group hug. Not too far away, the Hufflepuff team had done the same. The green and yellow clad supporters in the stands were all going crazy. Harry had never heard the crowd quite so loud – but then, he'd never played in a match where both teams were celebrating.

After showering, the Slytherin team walked back up to the castle together, happily speculating on what the rest of the house might have planned for the inevitable party. Scarlett was in the middle of moaning about a lack of more fireworks from the Weasley twins, when they walked up the castle steps and came to an abrupt stop.

The entire Entrance Hall was flooded with bubbles. Large, pink and shiny, they skidded across the wet floor and floated up to the ceiling, where they'd pop and multiply. The doors to the Great Hall were open, and Harry could see that there were even more bubbles in there. All the house tables were completely covered, and the level was rising rapidly.

Umbridge and Filch were standing in the centre of the Entrance Hall, trying unsuccessfully to disperse the bubbles. There was a group of teachers huddled together on the stairs watching with amused interest, though Sinistra was the only Head of House in the room. Harry saw Severus and Burbage whispering to each other and smirking. 

When she saw the Slytherin team enter the castle, Sinistra broke away from her colleagues and hurried over. “There you are! Come along, I've got to escort you to the common room,” she said briskly.

“What happened?” Scarlett asked her.

“In a minute, Miss Lympsham,” Sinistra replied.

They found the Slytherin common room crowded and noisy, though people soon shut up when they saw Sinistra arrive. She waited until the Quidditch team had squeezed over to a space near the wall before speaking.

“I'm sure you're all eager to begin celebrating our victory today, but I have a few words to say first,” she said. “As you may have surmised, dinner will not be held in the Great Hall this evening. The house-elves will serve you your usual fare in this room, though there may be some understandable delays. We hope that the Headmistress and Mr Filch are able to clear the Great Hall in time for breakfast tomorrow morning, but if not, that meal will also be served in here. You will be informed either way via the noticeboard. Yes, Miss Monkleigh?”

Agnes put her hand down. “Professor, why aren't the rest of the staff helping the Headmistress fix this?”

“Educational Decree Twenty-Five stipulates that we do not have the authority to do so,” Sinistra said. “Now, then. If anyone here has any information on who snuck out of the Quidditch stands to commit this crime, please speak up now.”

No one said a thing, though many people were looking around at the rest of the crowd.

Sinistra didn't seem to have expected an answer. “Very well. Anyone who does have any information has until six o'clock Monday evening to contact either the Headmistress, a member of the Inquisitorial Squad, or myself. If you have information and do not divulge it by that time, you will be considered an accomplice and punished accordingly. Good day.” With that she made to leave, then turned back in the entrance and smiled at the Quidditch team. “It was a thrilling match. Enjoy your party.”

********

  
As it turned out, the Great Hall wasn't cleared by breakfast, which worked in Slytherin's favour. Having partied until the small hours of the morning, no one had a problem with being able to have breakfast in their pyjamas, in the comfort of the common room. Harry happily sprawled out with his friends near the fire, a platter of food and goblets of drink in the centre of their circle, while they discussed the ongoing bubble situation.

The Weasley twins had been the original suspects for the prank, but Harry was reliably informed by Pansy that they had been otherwise occupied during the match. Apparently, Fred and George had been taking bets on the match, moving around the stands. When they'd gotten to the Slytherin stand, however, they'd encountered opposition from Zubeida and Tabitha, who had been running their own betting pool. The twins had eventually left the stand in defeat, confined to the other three student stands.

“And you believe that, do you?” Theo asked quietly.

Pansy giggled. “Of course not. They would have had more than enough time to sneak up to the castle and back before the match was over.”

“Especially if they'd already collected the Gryffindors' bets in their common room the night before,” Daphne added in a low voice.

Pansy nodded. “But who am I to say anything? I have no proof. More importantly, because of them, I get to lounge around in my dressing gown _and_ eat croissants.”

“They really should have been sorted Slytherin,” Harry muttered.

“Maybe that's why they weren't,” Tracey said. When everyone looked at her blankly, she rolled her eyes. “Well, everyone expects Slytherins to be sneaky and cunning and -”

“Utterly fabulous?” Pansy asked.

“Yes,” Tracey laughed. “So, you ask the Sorting Hat to put you in Gryffindor – or even better, in _Hufflepuff_ – and no one will ever suspect you of having the slyness to wage a prank war on the toad.”

Harry gaped at her. “I think I made a huge mistake asking the Sorting Hat to put me in either Slytherin or Gryffindor. I should've just demanded to be a Gryffindor.”

“My girlfriend, the evil genius,” Theo said, leaning over to kiss Tracey.

“I think you're giving two eleven year olds too much credit,” Draco said.

“What, jealous you didn't think of that yourself?” Blaise teased.

“Of course not. Green and silver suit me far better than red and gold,” Draco sniffed.

“He's jealous,” Harry said with a grin.

“Prat.”

“Git.”

Daphne eyed Harry curiously. “What do you mean you asked to be a Slytherin or a Gryffindor?”

********

  
There were no more pranks in the lead up to the Gryffindor – Ravenclaw Quidditch match, as the twins were too busy training for the match. Harry was busy revising for his OWLs, dreaming of the day he could give up some of his subjects. He still hadn't made his mind up whether or not he'd continue with Care of Magical Creatures. On the one hand, having one less subject to study would make his life easier. On the other hand, he did enjoy the class some of the time, and more importantly, he didn't want to upset Hagrid by dropping it.

The guilt he felt over that was strongest during Hagrid's lessons, which were still being inspected by Umbridge. Hagrid was doing his best to help the class revise the creatures they'd already studied, and when going over material they'd already covered, he was a little better at ignoring Umbridge's catty remarks.

On the Tuesday before the Quidditch match, Hagrid had the class go over Hippogriffs. The class was split up into groups of twos and threes to reintroduce themselves to the herd. Harry, Draco and Hermione were given the fiercest Hippogriff, a large, black beast whose yellow eyes glared at them as they bowed politely at it.

“Maximus needs extra deep bows, now,” Hagrid said loudly, walking over to them.

As Draco was currently bent so far forward that his head was near his knees, both Harry and Hermione gave Hagrid incredulous looks.

“I've only got a second before she comes over 'ere,” Hagrid whispered, under the guise of bowing to the Hippogriff himself. “Can the three o' yeh come ter me cabin tomorrow night? Under Harry's Cloak?”

“We have Astronomy at midnight,” Hermione whispered back.

“Come afterwards. It's dead important,” Hagrid implored her.

“Course we will,” Harry said. “Is this better?”

He bent over into a deep bow, staring unblinkingly at Maximus while Umbridge came over with her clipboard. To Harry's great relief, Maximus finally consented to bow back at them, and Umbridge had to content herself with a disapproving sniff.

********

  
Harry spent all of Wednesday dreading going to visit Hagrid. He knew it must be important – Hagrid wouldn't ask them to risk getting caught just to have a cup of tea with him. By the time he was in Astronomy class, his stomach was clenching with unease.

When class was over they hung back for the rest of the students to disperse, under the pretence that Hermione wanted to ask Sinistra a question about the orbit of Saturn's moons. Sinistra answered her, then shooed them all off the tower, admonishing them that they had to get to their common rooms within fifteen minutes before they would officially be out after curfew.

Once off the rooftop, Harry pulled both the Marauder's Map and his Invisibility Cloak out of his schoolbag. Draco arranged the Cloak over the three of them before they set off. Harry carefully checked the Map for any teachers or Inquisitorial Squad members on their way out of the castle, only clearing it and putting it back in his bag once they were safely out in the grounds.

“What do you think he wants?” asked Harry when they were halfway there.

“It can't be good,” Draco said at once, “but as long as it isn't more Skrewts we should be right.”

“I'll remind you later that you said that,” Hermione said darkly.

When they got to Hagrid's cabin there was only one light on. Harry knocked quietly, then they waited on the doorstep, glancing back nervously at the castle.

“Who is it?” Hagrid asked through the door.

“It's us,” Harry replied.

“Ah, good. Give me a sec,” Hagrid said.

They heard him walking around inside before he opened the door, his crossbow held in one hand and a lantern in the other. His nose was swollen, but he was blessedly free of bruises. Hagrid peered down with a frown. “Where are yeh? I don't want ter step on yeh,” he said.

Harry pushed Draco and Hermione off the step. “We're over here,” he said.

“Good,” Hagrid said, stepping out and shutting the door behind himself. “Come on then.”

“Er, Hagrid, where are we going?” Harry asked, as they hurried to keep up with Hagrid. He was not at all reassured to see that Hagrid had slung a quiver stuffed with arrows over his shoulder.

“Forest,” Hagrid said.

Harry and Draco shared a look. The last time they'd gone into the Forest with Hagrid at night, they'd run into Voldemort.

“Why? What's in there? And why does it have to be at night?” Draco demanded.

“It's got ter be at night so that Umbridge won't catch us. I was goin' ter ask yeh ter come during the next Quidditch match, but I reckon after the last one she'll be keepin' an eye out fer students who aren't there,” said Hagrid.

“Okay, that's the why. You haven't told us what's in there,” Hermione pressed.

Harry looked around them as they entered the Forest. He wasn't sure what he was expecting, but it seemed the same as usual: dark, creepy and forbidding.

“Well, the thing is, I need yer help,” Hagrid said.

“With something in the Forest? Hagrid, I'm telling you right now that I will not be going anywhere near an Acromantula,” Draco said.

Hagrid snorted. “Nah, they're doin' alrigh'.”

“But there's something in here that isn't?” Hermione asked.

“Can we light our wands now? Your lantern's not much help back here,” Harry interrupted.

“Yeah, I reckon we're deep enough that they can't see from the castle,” Hagrid said. “Yeh can probably take yer Cloak off now, come ter think of it.”

Draco swiftly pulled it off them and bundled it into his schoolbag. “Are you going to tell us what you want us to do yet?”

“In a bit,” Hagrid said.

He pressed on along the path, with the three teenagers stumbling along behind him. Harry didn't think he'd ever been along this way, but it was hard to tell in the middle of the night, even with three wands now adding their light to that of the lantern. Mostly, all Harry could see were tree trunks that stretched up into darkness and bushes that rustled in the wind. At least, Harry very much hoped it was the wind.

“What do you need the crossbow for? You didn't have that when we came in here to see the Thestrals,” Hermione said.

“Protection, o' course. We're goin' some place different tonight,” Hagrid said.

“Some place where we might get attacked?” Harry asked.

“Not unless we run into any centaurs,” Hagrid said tightly.

“Centaurs?” Harry asked. “Does this have anything to do with Firenze getting attacked by the rest of his herd?”

“Course yeh already know about that,” Hagrid muttered. “Yeah, I stopped 'em from killin' 'im, so now they're angry with me, too. Bloody mules.”

He fell into an annoyed silence at that, not saying anything until he abruptly turned off the path.

“We're leaving the path?” Hermione asked anxiously, pulling her arm from a thorny branch. “Just where are we going?”

“Well, I had to make sure no one else'd find 'im,” Hagrid said over his shoulder.

“Him?” Hermione asked.

Hagrid gave a great sigh and stopped walking, then turned around to address not Hermione, but Draco. “Yer pretty good with languages, yeah?”

“Yes...” Draco said warily.

“Which ones do yeh speak again?” Hagrid asked.

Draco frowned at Harry and Hermione, who were just as confused as he was. “Apart from English? French, Parseltongue and Mermish. Why?”

“Fancy learnin' another?” Hagrid asked.

“Depends on what it is and why you want me to learn it,” Draco said suspiciously.

“Gigantus,” Hagrid said.

“ _What?_ ” Draco and Hermione asked simultaneously.

“Keep it down!” Hagrid said, making frantic shushing motions with his hands.

Draco ducked the crossbow that was swung perilously close to his face and straightened up to glare at Hagrid. “Don't tell us to shut up after that!”

Harry just stared at them all in confusion. “What's -”

“It's what the giants speak,” Draco snapped. “Hagrid wants me to learn it to speak to a giant.”

“Not just any giant. He's me brother,” Hagrid said.

“I never knew you had a brother,” Harry said in surprise.

“Neither did I until last summer,” Hagrid said.

“And that's really not the point right now!” Draco cried.

Hermione nodded her agreement. “You brought a giant back to Britain? To _Hogwarts? Why?_ ”

“He's me brother,” Hagrid repeated. “I couldn't leave 'im there. They were pickin' on 'im.”

“Oh, this is bad, this is bad, this is very, very, bad,” Hermione moaned.

“He's what's been hurting you, isn't he,” Harry accused.

“Grawp just don't know 'is own strength, that's all,” Hagrid said. “And yer dad's bruise paste helps.”

“I'd prefer it if you weren't getting hurt in the first place,” said Harry.

“His name is Grawp?” Draco asked.

Hagrid nodded. “That's what it sound like 'e's sayin'.”

“Hagrid, you really shouldn't have brought him back with you. He's obviously completely wild if he's still hurting you after all this time,” Hermione said.

“He's getting' better,” Hagrid said. “He just gets grumpy sometimes, that's all.”

“Most people don't beat up other people when they're grumpy,” Hermione shot back.

“Will yeh at least meet 'im first? Please?” Hagrid begged.

Seeing both Draco and Hermione cross their arms, Harry took a deep breath. “Sure.”

Hagrid's face split into a wide grin. “Thanks, Harry. I knew yeh'd say yes.”

Both he and Harry looked at the others expectantly.

“I'll meet him,” Hermione said unwillingly, “but I'm not promising anything else.”

“I'm with her,” Draco said sullenly. “Meeting him is all I will agree to.”

“Good enough fer me. Come on!” Hagrid said.

He turned around and continued to lead them through the underbrush. Due to his larger size, the branches and brambles parted easily for him, only to spring back towards the three teenagers, who were left to fight a constant battle against thorns and bushes. They were soon sweating with effort, their robes torn and dirty.

“This is insane,” Draco said, not bothering to keep his voice down.

“Mmm hmm,” Hermione agreed.

“Hagrid's insane.”

“Yes.”

“And we're insane for following him,” Draco concluded.

“Quite possibly.”

“Shut up,” Harry said to them.

Draco turned on him. “ _You're_ insane for agreeing to meet this brother of his, and I'm dumping you. Right now, Potter. We're over. We're through. We're -”

“Quit over-reacting,” Harry said.

“Actually, I think he's acting rather appropriately given the circumstances,” Hermione said.

Draco gave her a grateful nod. “Thank you – oh holy fuck, _is that it?_ ”

Something large had just moved in the darkness ahead, making the earth shake with its movement. Draco and Hermione both latched onto Harry, who gripped them just as tightly.

“I take it we're back together?” Harry whispered.

Draco nodded mutely, not taking his eyes off the dark shape they could see in front of them. Harry couldn't blame him. The mass in front of them was huge, much larger than Hagrid. There was a crude barrier of fallen logs separating them all from the giant. It didn't do much to make Harry feel any safer.

“Yeh'd best wait there,” Hagrid said to the three of them.

“Oh, no, I wanted to get closer to the murderous giant,” Draco whispered sarcastically.

He shut up when Harry tugged on his robes, and together with Hermione, they waited silently as Hagrid stepped over a felled tree and walked carefully towards the giant, his lantern held up above his head. Slowly, the bobbing light illuminated more and more of the giant. Bare, dirty feet at least a metre long rose into thick legs. A crude tunic, made of patched together animal pelts, fell to his knees.

Hagrid stopped ten feet away from Grawp, but even at that distance, Harry could tell that he only came up to his brother's armpits. Looking between the two of them, Harry couldn't see any family resemblance. Hagrid's bushy hair and beard may have given him a wild appearance, but he was still recognisably human. Grawp looked like someone had tried to sculpt a human but only had a vague description of what one looked like. His head was disproportionately large to his body and had very little neck underneath it. His features were all misshapen: yellow, crooked teeth peeked out from a wonky mouth; his ears were long and flabby; the nose was stubbed, almost pig-like; and the dull hazel eyes were curiously small in the round face.

“Grawp, I've brought some friends ter meet yeh!” Hagrid said loudly.

Grawp bent down to get a closer look. As one, Harry, Hermione and Draco stepped back, even though they were well behind Hagrid.

Hagrid turned and pointed at them each. “This is Draco, and Harry, and -” he paused and looked at Hermione nervously. “Do yeh mind if 'e calls yeh Hermy? It's just that yer name might be a bit hard fer 'im to say.”

“Oh, no, by all means go right ahead!” Hermione said in a high-pitched voice.

Hagrid beamed at her and turned back to Grawp. “And this is Hermy! They're all goin' ter be visitin' yeh from now on.”

Grawp blinked at Hagrid, not making any sign that he'd understood what he'd said. All of a sudden his hand shot out and swung at Hagrid, who ducked then hastily backed further away. As the massive arm had moved through the lantern light, Harry caught sight of a thick rope attached to Grawp's wrist.

“Hagrid, have you been keeping him tied up all this time?” he asked.

Hagrid nodded sadly. “He didn't want ter come back with me. It's why it took me so long ter get back. He's settlin' in now, but I don't want 'im getting' loose all the same. Plus the centaurs don't like 'im, and since they're the smartest creatures in the Forest, they've everything else on their side. But 'e don't seem to mind it too much, do yeh, Grawpy? He can catch all 'is own food – mostly birds and deer.”

Harry had a sickening image of what might have happened to James if Grawp had been in the Forest twenty years ago when the Marauders had been running around in their Animagus forms.

Grawp made another futile grab for Hagrid, bellowing in frustration, then abruptly lost interest and sat down. The ground shook so much that Harry would have fallen over if he wasn't still holding onto Hermione and Draco. Hagrid swayed a little, but was evidently used to the ground shaking. He stepped back over the barrier of logs and waved at Grawp, who seemed to be settling down to sleep.

“We'll be off now, Grawpy, but we'll come back,” he said. He walked over to the others and smiled at them. “See? He's not that scary. Yeh'll be fine as long as yeh keep yer distance.”

“Why do you want us to visit him? He's hardly going to prefer our company over yours, is he” asked Hermione.

Hagrid's smile fell. “Might not have a choice in that. Yeh all know that Umbridge's still inspectin' me classes. Don't reckon I'll last much longer. Yeh saw how mad she got when Dumbledore let Trelawney stay at Hogwarts. She'll be out for blood, mark my words.”

“She just demoted Dad and got Dumbledore sacked, surely that's enough?” Harry argued.

“I don't think so,” Hagrid said sadly. “So that's why I brought yeh all out tonight. I want ter know that someone'll be able ter keep Grawp company after I'm gone. I'm not askin' fer much – I know yeh've got exams comin' up, but... Maybe yeh could sneak out under yer Cloak once a week or so?”

“Even if we are able to come out, we're going home for summer. What will happen then?” Hermione asked gently.

Hagrid stared at her, clearly not having thought that far ahead. “I can sneak back into the Forest over summer while the school's deserted.”

“But that's all hypothetical. Umbridge might leave soon – her job is cursed, after all, and then you won't have to leave,” Draco said, a note of desperation in his voice.

Hagrid snorted. “I'd rather be prepared than bank on that so called curse kickin' in. Now come on, we'd best get you three back ter the castle.”

They walked back in silence. Harry, for one, was already feeling guilty about the fact that he had no intention of going to visit Grawp if Hagrid had to leave Hogwarts. He'd never promised he would, strictly, and Draco and Hermione had flat out said that they only consented to meeting Grawp. Harry just couldn't see what Hagrid was thinking when he'd asked them. If Grawp was still trying to attack Hagrid after all this time, what chance did the three of them stand, even if Draco did learn some Gigantus? He was thinking about this when Hagrid suddenly stopped in front of him.

“Hang on,” he said in a low voice.

He pulled an arrow out of his quiver and nocked the crossbow. Harry, Hermione and Draco raised their wands and peered around apprehensively. Now that they were no longer struggling through the bushes, they could also hear something moving around nearby.

“Bugger,” Hagrid muttered.

“I thought we made it clear that you were no longer welcome in our home, Hagrid,” said a voice.

Harry spun around and raised his wand to see a chestnut centaur with black hair making his way towards them. Four more centaurs were flanking him, all of them wearing deeply unfriendly expressions and carrying bows and arrows.

“Evening, Magorian,” Hagrid said gruffly.

An entirely black centaur stepped up beside Magorian. He spared a dirty look at Hagrid before addressing Magorian. “We agreed what we should do if this human ever came back into our Forest.”

“'This human', am I, Bane?” Hagrid asked hotly. “Yeh never had a problem with me until I stopped yeh from killin' Firenze!”

“You should not have meddled in our ways, Hagrid, just as we do not meddle in yours,” Magorian said calmly. “We have our own laws and customs, which Firenze was well aware of when he broke them. He has betrayed us and dishonoured himself.”

“What, fer givin' Dumbledore a hand?” Hagrid scoffed.

“He has entered into servitude to a wizard!” spat a grey centaur.

Magorian held up a hand to silence him. “Enough, Shiren. I will not argue with you about Firenze, Hagrid. He has made his choice and left us, and we will speak of him no more. You may leave here unscathed tonight as you have your young with you -”

“They're not his young, they're students from the school!” Bane broke in angrily. “They have probably already been taught our secrets by the traitor!”

“Nonetheless, we do not slaughter foals, Bane,” Magorian said, still far calmer than the other centaurs. “Hagrid, leave us tonight, and do not return. You lost our friendship when you aided the traitor to escape his due punishment.”

“Yeh can't keep me outta here! This Forest belongs to everyone, not just a pack o' star-crazed mules!” Hagrid shouted.

The subordinate centaurs pawed the ground angrily, and even Magorian's cool facade slipped a little at Hagrid's outburst.

Hermione noticed. “Hagrid, let's go!” she said shrilly, pulling on his coat.

“Yes, come on!” Draco cried, joining Hermione in tugging on Hagrid.

The centaurs began to walk away when they saw Hagrid beginning to leave. Magorian stayed a moment longer. “We do not want the giant in our Forest, Hagrid. Our patience with it is fast running out.”

“He has just as much right ter be 'ere as you lot!” Hagrid shouted after him.

“Well, actually,” Draco began, then Hagrid glared at him. “That's a good point.”

“Humph,” Hagrid said, turning back towards the path.

They didn't speak for the rest of the way out of the Forest, save for when Draco pulled the Invisibility Cloak back out to cover them.

“See yer in class,” Hagrid muttered when they reached the edge of the Forest, stomping off towards his cabin.

When they were out of earshot of the cabin they stopped and looked at each other under the Cloak.

Hermione huffed. “I can't believe him! What could he have been thinking? You can't civilise a giant! We'd be killed if we tried to.”

“And I don't have time to learn Gigantus!” Draco joined in. “Especially not if Umbridge is checking the mail. If I ordered a book and she got suspicious about it... He's lost the plot.”

“I know why he did it,” Harry said quietly.

“Because he's gone insane?” guessed Draco.

“You don't understand. Neither of you can,” Harry said, trying not to snap at them. It wasn't their fault, after all. 

“What do you mean?” asked Hermione.

Harry took a deep breath. “Hermione, your parents both love you, and Draco, you've always had your mum, and now you've got Sirius and Tonks and everyone else. Hagrid's always been alone. His dad died when he was just a kid, and he didn't know what happened to his mum. As far as he knew, he had no family alive. Then he found out about Grawp – of course he's going to want to get to know the only family he has left.”

“I didn't think about it like that,” Hermione said in a small voice.

“Me neither,” said Draco.

Harry shrugged sadly. “You never had to. But I know where he's coming from... Before Dad adopted me, if I'd found out I had a sibling, I would've done anything I could to be with them, even if it meant dragging a giant back here.”

Hermione bit her lip. “I didn't mean to sound insensitive.”

“It's okay,” Harry assured her.

She smiled at him. “But this doesn't mean you actually want to go visit Grawp, does it?”

“Hell, no,” Harry said.

Draco didn't say anything, but he reached forward to hold Harry's hand all the way back to the castle, where he climbed in to Harry's bed for the night.

********

  
For the Gryffindor – Ravenclaw Quidditch match, Harry, Draco and Blaise all joined Hermione and Neville in the Gryffindor stand, as they had for the Gryffindor – Hufflepuff match.

“But today will go better. Ginny and her brothers aren't as upset over their dad so they've been able to focus more during training,” Blaise said quietly. “Plus Ginny's a much better Seeker than Cho.”

“You're just saying that because one of them is your girlfriend and the other is your ex-girlfriend,” Draco said scornfully.

Harry shook his head. “He's right. Ginny's far better. And far more fun.”

“Yeah, she is,” Blaise leered.

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Charming.”

“You jealous? I'm flattered, but I'm taken and I don't cheat,” Blaise said.

“You do at poker,” Draco pointed out.

“Did you really just compare a girl to a card game?” Blaise asked.

“Yes, Black, did you?” Hermione chimed in.

“No, of course not,” Draco said quickly, twisting around to talk to Neville.

Before Hermione could say anything further, the crowd began cheering as the two teams walked out onto the pitch. The Captains shook hands, and then they were all in the air. It was a good game, fast-paced with plenty of turnovers, and Harry was very happy that Hagrid hadn't waited until that day to ask him to meet Grawp. Gryffindor was leading one hundred and fifty to one hundred and ten when Ginny finally caught the Snitch after nearly two hours. 

The Gryffindor team converged on each other and sank to the ground in a messy group hug – all apart from the Weasley twins. Instead of joining their teammates, they shot over the back of the Gryffindor stand. Harry didn't think anything of it – he was too busy being jostled by Blaise, who was jumping up and down with Hermione – until he heard the explosion. The colossal boom made all the stands shake, and quite a few people shrieked.

Then the twins came flying back into the stadium, trailing fireworks behind them, and the cries of fright quickly turned into excited cheers and laughter.

“Are they crazy? They're going to get expelled, and right before exams, too!” Hermione wailed.

“They don't care about exams!” Harry shouted back.

Fred and George didn't seem to have a care in the world as they flew around the pitch, letting off more fireworks every few seconds. The crowd was too noisy to hear anything, but even from down in the stands, Harry could see they were laughing uproariously. Nothing they had let off seemed big enough to have caused the massive explosion at the start of their display.

“GET DOWN HERE THIS INSTANT!”

Umbridge's voice carried over the noise of both the crowd and the fireworks. Harry looked over to the staff box to see that Umbridge was red-faced with rage. She had taken Lee's megaphone off him, and was using that to address the twins. Sitting around her were the members of the Inquisitorial Squad, all of whom had their wands out, though no one seemed sure of what to do. 

Up in the air, the twins looked at each other and very deliberately shook their heads. 

“I WILL USE FORCE IF NECESSARY!”

In answer, the twins pointed their wands back the way they'd come. A second later another firework began to rise up over the Gryffindor stand. Comprised of a multitude of smaller red and gold sparklers, a colossal lion's head, easily fifty metres across, was soon looming over the stand. The crowd fell silent as everyone stared at it. The rest of the fireworks died away, leaving the entire Quidditch stadium silent and still except for the sparkling of the lion.

“GET HER!” the twins shouted in unison.

With a roar as loud as a jet fighter, the lion's head began to move, slowly at first, but picking up speed as it headed directly for Umbridge and the Inquisitorial Squad. The students found their voices again, cheering louder than ever as they were lit up by the giant mass of fireworks flying overhead. Just before it would have engulfed the entire staff box, the lion broke up into hundreds of smaller fireworks that shot up into the sky to detonate, raining red and gold sparks down onto the crowd.

It took a few seconds for the air to clear enough for Harry to get a good look at the staff box. Most of the teachers had thrown up Shield Charms, but some of the Inquisitorial Squad members had resorted to cowering behind their seats for cover.

“Today's entertainment has been brought to you by Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, located at number ninety-three Diagon Alley!” one of the twins shouted.

“Everything but the lion's head will be for sale – with a discount for anyone promising to use our products against Umbridge!” the other yelled.

“YOU ARE BOTH IN SERIOUS TROUBLE AND YOUR PRODUCTS WILL NEVER MAKE IT ONTO HOGWARTS' GROUNDS!” Umbridge screamed back, still using the megaphone.

The twins just grinned. “We'd like to see you stop us!” they shouted in unison.

With that they turned tail and shot out of the stadium, clearly heading back towards the castle. There was a pause as the entire school just stared around themselves, then Lee wrenched his megaphone back off Umbridge.

“AFTER THEM!”

He dodged around Umbridge and one of the Carrow twins, heading for the stairs. Not a single other staff member made any attempt to stop him. 

“PREFECTS WILL LEAD THEIR HOUSES TO THEIR COMMON ROOMS IMMEDIATELY!” Umbridge shouted.

“Bugger that,” Draco snorted, pulling Harry forward.

Hermione looked around with indecision. Like the rest of the school, the Gryffindors were rushing en masse to the stairs in order to follow the twins to the castle. Harry grabbed her hand. “You can't stop everyone, Hermione.”

“Well when you put it like that...” she said, allowing herself to be swept up in the crowd.

Along with the rest of the school, they ran into the Entrance Hall, and into one of the oddest scenes Harry had ever come across. The entire school was there: not just the students, but the teachers too, along with all the ghosts, even Peeves. Both the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw Quidditch teams were still on their brooms, hovering alongside the ghosts above the heads of the other people crowded in the room.

Fred and George were hovering in front of the marble staircase, having evidently just returned from a higher floor. There was a steady stream of discoloured water falling down the steps, slowly seeping across the floor. Umbridge stood in front of the front doors, the Inquisitorial Squad spread out around her. All of them had their wands pointed at the Weasley twins.

“You have played your last prank here at Hogwarts,” Umbridge said, glaring up at the twins.

“Yeah, I think you're right,” one of them said.

“She has to be sometimes, Fred,” said George.

“I have sent Mr Filch to my office to fetch an Approval for Whipping,” Umbridge said, as if they hadn't spoken.

“Fat lot of good that's going to do,” Fred laughed.

“You won't be saying that after he's through with you!” Umbridge snapped.

“No, see, that's where you're wrong,” George said.

“We have no intention of allowing Filch to whip us,” Fred said.

“That's not up to you,” Umbridge said. “Misbehaviour at Hogwarts has gone on long enough. You will now answer for your crimes.”

“You have to catch us first,” George said with a smirk.

Umbridge smiled and aimed her wand directly at him. “ _Incarcero_ -”

“You cannot tie up a student!” McGonagall shouted from a few metres away.

“Silence, or I shall put you on probation!” Umbridge replied.

“If that is the price I must pay for protecting a student from physical punishment, then so be it,” McGonagall said, drawing herself up to her full height.

“There's no need for that, Professor McGonagall,” George said earnestly. “Not on our account.”

“We're leaving anyway. We've had enough of this place,” Fred added.

Both twin looked down at the gathered students. “Remember: Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. Ninety-three Diagon Alley,” they said in unison.

Fred looked across the room, to where Peeves was floating above a group of transfixed first years, and threw something to the poltergeist. “Give her hell from us, Peeves,” he said.

Harry's mouth dropped open as he watched Peeves, who as far he knew only ever obeyed Dumbledore or the Bloody Baron, pull his hat off his head and salute the twins, who flew out the open doors into the gathering twilight. Their laughter floated back into the castle, where it was quickly drowned out by the cheering of the students. 

A moment later the cheering stopped and people began running for their common rooms as Peeves gleefully zoomed around the Entrance Hall, throwing the Dungbombs Fred had given him and cackling maniacally.


	29. In Which Umbridge Makes Further Changes to the Hogwarts Staff

The extent of Fred and George's pranks became apparent to the school on Monday morning. The entire third floor had been flooded with dirty water, blocking off both the Charms and Defence classrooms, along with the library. Instead of finally being able to whip the twins as he'd so dearly wanted, Filch was instead spending his time punting students to their classrooms on a large raft, as no one had yet been able to clear the corridor of water. Umbridge was furious, but Flitwick seemed highly amused by the situation, and readily pardoned any latecomers to his classes.

On the second floor corridor below, the twins had deposited a large swamp right outside Umbridge's office. As with the water above, Umbridge and Filch were unable to remove the swamp – though not for lack of trying, much to the amusement of any passersby who witnessed their attempts to do so. As a whole, the rest of the staff claimed they were unable to help due to Educational Decree Number Twenty-Five. Rather than trek through the swamp to get to her office, Umbridge chose to join the students getting punted along the second floor corridor, though she always cut in line.

Fred and George may have ensured that their names would go down in Hogwarts history (Pansy was, in fact, trying to get hold of Hermione's copy of _Hogwarts: A History_ in order to add a section on them), but there were more than a few other people willing to step up to take their places. There were so many Dungbombs and Stink Pellets dropped around the castle that most people took to casting a Bubble-head Charm on themselves before leaving their dormitories. A Niffler was let into Umbridge's office; when she walked in, it immediately attacked her, trying to wrench her garish rings from her fingers before she fled the room. By the time she returned, the Niffler had torn her office to shreds and left a rather large turd under her desk.

All the furniture in the Defence classroom kept disappearing, forcing Umbridge to begin most lessons by spending a few minutes conjuring up a blackboard and enough desks for the class to run smoothly. The textbooks she had her classes read from had a tendency to wind up completely blank when opened, so that she had to lecture from memory, frequently losing her voice from the strain.

On top of that, students began falling ill in her classes, suffering from fevers, vomiting, fainting spells and uncontrollable nosebleeds. After the first class all made miraculous recoveries minutes after leaving her classroom, Umbridge became determined to discover the cause of what the students were calling “Umbridgeitis”, but after she held four different classes in detention with no answer, she ungraciously gave up and resignedly let her classes leave her room.

Harry soon discovered the cause of Umbridgeitis when Scarlett skipped into the boys' dorm Monday evening. After checking that neither Greg nor Vince were in the room, she proceeded to pull out a box labelled “Skiving Snackboxes”. 

“How do you lot feel like coming down with Umbridgeitis?” she asked.

“What is it?” Draco asked warily.

“Skiving Snackboxes! The last range Fred and George developed before they buggered off. There are four types: Fainting Fancies, Nosebleed Nougat, Fever Fudge and Puking Pastilles. All are currently discounted, but stock is selling out fast,” Scarlett said.

“How do they work?” Theo asked.

Scarlett beamed. “They couldn't be simpler! Each sweet is double-ended. Eating the orange end will make you ill, while eating the purple end will cure you! Personally, I prefer the Puking Pastilles. Okay, it's not that much fun to lose your lunch – but it has the added bonus of leaving smelly vomit for the toad to clean up once you're gone! Fainting Fancies will obviously require you to have a friend feed you the purple end once you're unconscious, so you can't all take those at the same time. So how many do you want?”

Harry was given a box for free, as per his deal with the twins, and Draco, Blaise and even Theo all bought their own supplies. Scarlett had already been to the girls' dorms, so the fifth years used their Snackboxes at the start of their next Defence class, leaving Vince and Greg sitting alone in the classroom, with only a furious Umbridge for company.

The Inquisitorial Squad was under constant attack from hexes and jinxes, and members began walking everywhere in pairs. That didn't prevent most of their number from ending up in the infirmary at least once with a variety of interesting and amusing disfigurements. One memorable morning, the Slytherins had all woken up to the screams of the Slytherin members, who had been doused with Swelling Solution during the night. 

The only reason that Greg and Vince were left alone by their fellow dorm mates was because, as Severus had pointed out to Harry, he and his friends would be the obvious suspects should anything befall either boy in their sleep. “Unless, of course, all the Slytherin members suffered similar accidents during the same night,” Severus had mused.

Harry had stared at him. “You made me promise I wouldn't do anything.”

“I did, didn't I?” Severus had said, in that same overly thoughtful tone. “What a pity that none of your friends have made a similar vow.”

Harry had grinned. “I'll pass that information on to them.”

All of that would have been enough to have Umbridge and her Inquisitorial Squad in a constant state of jumpy unease, but that was without factoring in Peeves. He was determined to obey Fred's parting words to the letter, and was even more of a destructive force than usual.

Statues were taken to the top of the Astronomy Tower and pushed off in the middle of dinner, making people run out to see what the loud crashes were. Mrs Norris quickly refused to set foot near a suit of armour after Peeves twice locked her inside one. Classes were disrupted by Peeves bursting into a classroom in the middle of a lesson, upending all the ink wells on the students too slow to cast Shield Charms, writing rude words on the blackboards, pushing over all the desks and throwing books through the windows before departing just as quickly as he'd appeared.

Apparently inspired by the still flooded third floor, Peeves raced around the castle pulling off all the taps from the bathroom sinks and flooding the rest of the building for an entire afternoon. Poor Moaning Myrtle was seen swept out of her second floor bathroom, along the corridor, to be dumped unceremoniously in the swamp. Her screams of anguish could be heard by the students and staff as they waited outside on the lawn for Umbridge and Filch to stop the flooding.

Peeves upended a bag of tarantulas in the Great Hall during breakfast; later in the week, he snuffed out all the candles during dinner, leaving the room in almost complete darkness until he reappeared to juggle lit torches above the heads of terrified students. 

Harry would never forget the time he walked past Peeves trying to unscrew a large chandelier from the ceiling. McGonagall was walking the other way, and Harry distinctly heard her tell Peeves that he was twisting the screw in the wrong direction. He couldn't help grinning at that, and McGonagall gave him a most uncharacteristic wink as she walked past him. 

Apart from Filch, the rest of the staff seemed to be enjoying the chaos almost as much as Flitwick and McGonagall were. When Harry had snuck into Severus' quarters for dinner after the Swelling Solution incident, he found out that not only was Severus aware that Scarlett was responsible; Severus had actually given her the original potion at her request – before furiously complaining to Umbridge about her letting a student break into his storeroom.

All in all, it was a wonder that anyone got any study done. Harry was definitely feeling the pressure, but he was handling it a lot better than some of his classmates. Herbology was a nightmare, filled with stressed out Ravenclaws who badgered Sprout about the OWLs incessantly. Both Morag and Padma snapped anytime Harry or Draco made a joke, or even talked too loudly, so the boys once again resorted to speaking in Parseltongue. The soft sibilant sounds were easy for non-Parselmouths to tune out when they didn't think Harry was the heir of Slytherin. 

Harry had thought Hermione was bad earlier in the year, but now, with their exams only a week away, she was all but impossible to be around. She took to muttering to herself under her breath, before inevitably diving for her schoolbag to skim through a book. Potions classes were the worst: since Hermione knew that Harry had better grades than her, as well as after hours access to the teacher, she watched his brewing like a hawk, and interrogated him about everything he was doing. 

Theo and Tracey weren't much better. The other fifth year Slytherins had gotten so fed up with the pair of them that they took to avoiding the couple as best they could. Theo and Tracey spent most of their free time in the library with Hermione, but when they did come to the common room, the other fifth years soon learned to give them a wide berth.

The week before exams began, Sinistra held the Slytherins back after Astronomy in order to hand out their exam timetables.

“Your OWLs will be spread over the next two weeks. The theoretical exams will all take place in the Great Hall in the mornings, with the practical exams either that afternoon or, in the case of Astronomy, at night. Take note of which rooms those will be held in; some will also be in the Great Hall, while others will be in your usual classrooms,” Sinistra said. 

Her expression hardened. “Our new Headmistress has also asked each Head of House to inform their students that anyone found cheating will be punished with great severity. You will notice that on your timetables, there is also a list of equipment that you are permitted to take into an exam. Anyone found with unauthorised objects such as Auto-Answer Quills or Self-Correcting Ink will be removed from the exam room and taken straight to the Headmistress to be dealt with as she sees fit.”

Harry wasn't the only person who shuddered at that thought.

Sinistra sighed. “Every year, we seem to have a student who thinks they can get past the anti-cheating charms, and sadly, they are primarily Slytherin or Ravenclaw students. Do not delude yourself into thinking that you can get away with cheating on your OWLs. You are not as cunning as you think you are, and your methods of cheating will be unoriginal and predictable. You will be caught.”

There was a deathly silence at that, broken only by the soft breeze blowing over the top of the castle parapet. Harry wondered if any of his friends had actually been considering cheating.

“Very well. Get back to the common room. And good luck,” Sinistra said.

********

  
Draco's birthday took place on a Friday, the last day of classes before OWLs began on the Monday. He and Harry used the last of their Skiving Snackboxes to skip Defence, choosing instead to get some food from the kitchens and have a long, leisurely lunch in their dorm, where they both did their best to forget about exams for a couple of hours.

“I can't wait until I graduate and I no longer have to worry about sodding exams on my birthday,” Draco said.

Harry just grinned and Vanished the remains of their lunch, then crawled up Draco's body. “It'll all be over soon,” he said, closing his eyes to kiss Draco.

“Mmm,” was the only reply he got.

Harry pulled back and drew his wand. “ _Muffliato_.”

“What did you do that for?” asked Draco.

“So we don't need to be quiet if someone walks in,” Harry said.

Draco smirked. “Maybe this birthday won't be so bad after all.”

“That's the idea, you git,” Harry drawled, leaning down to undo Draco's laces.

“Don't be a prat, Potter. It's my birthday, which means you have to be nice to me.”

Harry met Draco's eyes and held his gaze as he pulled Draco's shoes off. “Nice, huh? What does that involve?”

“You could kiss me some more,” Draco said at once.

Harry dropped the shoes on the floor and lay back on top of Draco, kissing him soundly. Draco made a pleased sound in the back of his throat and wrapped his arms around Harry's waist to draw him closer. 

Harry pulled away after a few minutes. “Nice enough?”

“No,” Draco said, giving a mock pout.

“No?” Harry murmured, bending closer to suck on Draco's neck.

“That's better, I suppose,” Draco replied somewhat breathlessly.

“Still not nice enough?”

“Not quite. I have very high standards, you know.”

Harry chuckled. “What would meet these high standards?”

“A blowjob,” Draco said at once. “You know, for my birthday.”

“I don't know, I have already given you a present,” Harry said teasingly, even as he ran a hand down Draco's torso.

“So? I can't have new Quidditch gloves and still get a blowjob?”

Harry laughed again while he began unbuttoning Draco's trousers. “You're such a spoiled brat.”

“Yes, I am. Now spoil away,” Draco ordered, lifting his hips so Harry could slide his trousers off.

“You didn't ask very politely...” Harry said, trailing his hands up Draco's inner thighs.

“Harry!” Draco gave a pointed wriggle.

“Okay, okay,” Harry said, tired of teasing now. “Happy birthday, you git.”

“It is now,” was the last coherent sentence Draco said in a long while.

********

  
The weekend was spent cramming in as much last minute study as possible. By dinner time on Sunday, Harry was exhausted. As soon as dinner was over he retreated to his bed, to go over his Charms notes one last time, but couldn't concentrate properly. With a groan of frustration, he pushed his notes to the floor and got changed into his pyjamas. An early night would probably be the best thing for him right now.

Ladon slithered down from the top of Harry's bed to curl up on his chest. “ _You're unhappy_.”

“ _No, just stressed over exams. But it'll all be over soon_ ,” Harry said tiredly.

“ _Good. Then we can go outside?_ ” Ladon asked hopefully.

Harry stroked Ladon softly. “ _Yeah. When the exams are over I'll show you where Draco, Hermione and I have picnics by the lake_.”

Ladon rested his head on Harry's sternum and shut his eyes contentedly. Harry continued to stroke him, getting lulled to sleep by the slow rhythm of his arm. His eyes had drooped shut and his arm slowed down as he brought up his Occlumency shield, when agitated muttering and thumping footsteps jerked him back to full consciousness.

“Can you keep it down, Theo? I'm trying to sleep,” Harry called irritably.

There was a muffled thud and the muttering stopped. 

“I'm not Theo,” came Greg's voice.

“Oh. Well, just, keep it down, yeah?” Harry asked awkwardly.

“Sure,” Greg replied. After a few seconds, he added, “sorry.”

He sounded genuinely apologetic, though as Harry had originally confused his voice for Theo's, he could be wrong about this, too. Still, as Harry resumed trying to get to sleep, he not only had to contend with his worry over exams, but with a confused, lingering guilt about Greg, too.

********

  
Breakfast on Monday was a mostly silent affair, as the fifth years prepared for their Charms exams. Tracey and Theo had a textbook open between them, taking it in turn to quiz each other; Daphne, Pansy and Blaise were listening to them with increasingly tense expressions; Harry was flipping through his own Charms book, re-reading the definitions of the different charms, as were Draco and Millicent. Even Greg and Vince were eating with rather less enthusiasm than usual.

When the meal was over the fifth years and seventh years waited out in the Entrance Hall for the rest of the school went off to their classes. At nine-thirty they were called back into the Great Hall, where the house tables had been replaced by scores of individual desks facing the far end of the hall. McGonagall stood in front of the staff table, waiting for everyone to be seated; once they were, she informed them that they could begin and turned over a large hour glass on the desk next to her.

When their time was up, the OWL and NEWT students were ushered into the Entrance Hall while the Great Hall was set back to normal. Theo and Tracey spent all of lunch going back over the exam they'd just sat, while the other Slytherin fifth years did their best to tune them out. 

When lunch was over the fifth years were shepherded into the small chamber behind the staff table, where they were to wait to be called into their practical examination in alphabetical order. Flitwick poked his head into the chamber after a few minutes. 

“Abbot, Hannah – Black, Draco – Bones, Susan – Boot, Terry.”

Harry gave Draco's hand a reassuring squeeze before he walked back into the Great Hall. He didn't return after his exam was over, so Harry had no way of knowing how he'd gone. He spent his remaining waiting time running over incantations in his head and practising wand movements. Finally, he was called in with Pansy and the Patil twins. He emerged some time later, feeling rather confident that he'd scored high enough to pass Charms, and would probably be able to continue on with it during his sixth year. He could have performed a bit better – he'd mixed up the incantations for Colour Change and Growth Charms – but overall he felt happy with his performance.

The rest of the exams followed the same basic structure. Tuesday was Transfiguration, and the practical exam was definitely the most eventful of the week. Hannah succumbed to the pressure of exams and, instead of vanishing her ferret, somehow turned it into an entire flock of flamingos. The entire exam was paused for ten minutes so that the birds could be captured and removed from the room. 

On Wednesday was Herbology. Harry felt that he'd done particularly well in both the written and practical exams, and if Severus hadn't strictly forbidden him from visiting him again before his OWLs were over (so as to avoid any accusations of cheating), he would have headed to Severus' quarters straight away to thank him for making Harry work so hard in their garden over Easter break.

Thursday was another easier day for Harry, being the Defence Against the Dark Arts exams. He breezed through the written exam, and easily performed all the spells correctly during the practical exam, despite the fact that Umbridge had decided to watch his performance from the doorway.

Professor Tofty, an elderly, completely bald little wizard, was examining Harry. Given his short stature and friendly personality, he reminded Harry of Flitwick, putting him at ease.

“Bravo, Mr Potter!” Tofty said at the end of his exam. “Marvellous. That's all for today, unless...” He stepped closer and continued in a lowered voice. “I've heard the rumour that you can produce a corporeal Patronus. Would you care to demonstrate, for a bonus point?”

Harry grinned at him and turned to eye Umbridge, picturing her getting sacked. “ _Expecto patronum!_ ”

His fawn burst out of his wand and bounded to the far end of the Great Hall. All of the other examiners stopped to watch the fawn's progress, and it passed right in front of Umbridge before it disappeared.

Tofty clapped his hands enthusiastically. “Most impressive! You may go, Mr Potter!”

Harry flashed him one last smile then headed for the doors. He couldn't resist shooting a smirk at Umbridge as he passed. She had an unpleasant smile on her face, but he ignored it. He was pretty sure he'd just received full marks for Defence, and there was absolutely nothing she could do about it.

On Friday was the Ancient Runes exam. Having a day off from exams, Harry chose to take a break from studying since he had the entire weekend to study. Monday would be Potions, which he knew he would pass with flying colours. He chose to spend Friday playing poker in his dorm with Blaise, Pansy and Daphne, who like him, hadn't taken Ancient Runes, on the the condition that none of them asked him for extra pointers for their Potions exams.

Sure enough, Harry found both the written and practical Potions exams incredibly easy, though he did feel slightly uneasy when he had to write down the effects of Polyjuice. He stifled a shudder as he remembered how Severus had first described the potion to him a year ago, in order to distract Harry from what he'd suffered at the hand of Voldemort and Pettigrew. When Professor Marchbanks, the head of the Wizarding Examinations Authority, came to collect Harry's potion flask during the practical exam, he could have sworn the elderly witch gave him an approving nod.

Tuesday's Care of Magical Creatures exams were uneventful. Harry was fairly confident that most of the class would get reasonable marks, which hopefully would help protect Hagrid's teaching position from Umbridge. Harry had both Astronomy and Divination on Wednesday, but as he'd decided with Pansy and Daphne that they would once again just lie throughout their Divination exam, he decided to spend the evening studying Astronomy with Draco. It was a decision he came to regret after less than fifteen minutes, given Draco's attitude towards the exam.

“Why are you so stressed about Astronomy?” Harry eventually asked. “You said you weren't going to continue with it next year.”

“No, I'm not. But given that most of my family are named after constellations or stars, I'll look pretty bloody moronic if I fail to locate them properly on the exam,” Draco snapped back.

Harry privately felt this was a bit rich. He himself hadn't gone around biting people's heads off before the Potions exams, after all, and he was the son of the sodding teacher. That was far more incentive to perform well than having a tendency to look to the heavens for baby names.

In the end, Harry felt he passed his written Astronomy exam. That afternoon he had his Divination exam. Like some other subjects – Arithmancy, Ancient Runes, Muggle Studies and History of Magic – it only had the one exam. Unlike those other subjects, however, this one was a mixture of both practical and written questions. Harry didn't think he had much chance of passing the written part – he had spent so long fudging his way through the class that he hadn't actually remembered much of the theory – but he thought he had lied sufficiently well that he had fooled his examiner into thinking he knew more than he actually did.

As Harry walked back down to the dungeons with Pansy and Daphne, he noticed Daphne staring at him curiously.

“What?”

She bit her lip for a moment. “Won't your dad mind that you've just lied your way through an exam? I mean, he's a teacher!”

Harry burst out laughing. “On Divination? He won't care. I think he'd be more likely to be pissed off if I actually studied for that one, to tell you the truth. He knows I want to drop it after this year, and he's pretty happy about that. As long as I don't flat out fail it, he won't care.”

At eleven o'clock that night the fifth years were gathered on the top of the Astronomy Tower for their practical exam. It was a perfect night for it: cloudless, little wind, and a bright but not overpowering moon. Everyone set up their telescopes and, when Marchbanks turned over yet another hourglass, began to fill out their blank star charts.

Harry had to admit that the Black family's tradition had certainly helped him remember certain stars and constellations, and he shot a fond smile at his boyfriend as he scribbled in the stars of the Draco constellation.

The exam was being officiated by Marchbanks and Tofty, and both professors strolled amongst the students, observing them as they filled out their star charts. About an hour into the exam there was a bang from down below; it sounded like the front doors to the castle had been carelessly pushed open. Harry looked over the through the closest gap in the battlements to see light spilling onto the lawn in front of the castle. The shadows of six people were moving quickly across it, with the shortest one leading.

Harry frowned down at Umbridge. Why would she be taking five other people into the grounds in the middle of the night? Behind him, Marchbanks cleared her throat pointedly, and Harry hastened to put his eye back down on the eyepiece of his telescope.

Harry was in the middle of labelling Jupiter's moons when he heard knocking. He again looked down into the grounds, this time to see that Umbridge and her group had reached Hagrid's cabin and were knocking on the door. Fang started barking inside, and half a minute later Hagrid opened the door to let the group in.

“Focus on your exams, please,” Marchbanks said sharply.

Harry glanced around himself; he wasn't the only person whose attention had been drawn to the people down in the grounds. Once again, he bent over his telescope and tried to block out everything else. 

A few minutes later he heard Hagrid's voice bellowing from inside his cabin, but didn't see any movement when he craned his neck over the battlements.

“Concentrate, boys and girls,” Tofty said. “Only twenty minutes to go.”

A few metres away Hermione jumped and returned to her parchment, scribbling madly. Harry made a half-hearted effort to do the same, when a loud bang echoed around the grounds. Several people cried out in pain when they jumped and poked themselves in the eye with their telescopes.

Hagrid had thrown his door open in a fit of anger. He was standing in front of his cabin, his fists held up defensively against the six people who were surrounding him and Fang. Streams of red light shot out of their wands for Hagrid – they were trying to Stun him. Hermione and several other students cried out in shock. Harry couldn't blame them. The red spell light was awful and stark in the dark night.

“Quiet!” Marchbanks snapped.

“I won't go with yeh!” Hagrid shouted.

“Be reasonable, Hagrid,” one of the people said.

“Reason be damned, Dawlish!” Hagrid snapped back. “Yeh've come ter take me in the middle o' the night, like a pack of thieves!”

“Come on, now, you haven't got long left,” Tofty said to the students. 

He didn't sound very hopeful that anyone would pay any attention to him. Harry certainly didn't. He looked around to see that Draco's eyes were narrowed with anger as he watched the scene below them. To the other side of Harry, he could see that even Hermione was completely ignoring her telescope, staring down at Hagrid with her fists clenched on the parapet in front of her.

Dawlish and the others, who Harry assumed must be more Aurors, advanced on Hagrid. Fang was jumping up at them, attempting to protect Hagrid, when a Stunning Spell hit him and he fell to the ground without a whimper. Hagrid let our a roar of pure anger and reached down for the culprit. He lifted him with ease and threw him him over ten feet through the air. He hit the ground with a crumpled thud audible even at the top of the tower, and didn't move. Harry stared, wide-eyed. While he was accustomed to Hagrid's casual displays of his strength, he'd never seen him properly angry before.

“Have they no respect? There is an exam taking place!” Marchbanks cried angrily.

Harry was pleased to see that Hagrid didn't seem to be at all fazed by the spells shooting at him. Indeed, one spell actually bounced off him and returned towards its caster, leaving a crumpled figure on the ground.

“Yes!” Harry hissed in triumph.

“Silence!” Tofty hissed back at him, though without any real anger. Like most of the others on top of the Astronomy Tower, he had all but forgotten about the exam.

The castle door opened yet again, and Harry leant over further to see the long, tall shadow of what had to be McGonagall racing across the grounds towards Hagrid. 

“Look!” Parvati gasped, pointing down at her.

“There is only fifteen minutes left in your exam!” Tofty cried.

Not a single student was now paying any attention to their exams or the professors. They were crowded up against the battlements, watching McGonagall's mad dash across the lawn.

“Leave him alone!” McGonagall shouted, her brogue thick with anger. “How dare you attack him! He has done nothing! You animals! I said leave him! _Now!_ ”

Harry had never heard McGonagall scream like that; if it had been him at the receiving end, he would have done whatever she'd told him to do. Not so the Aurors. They turned as a group, and four of them shot Stunning Spells straight at McGonagall. They hit her squarely in the chest, momentarily illuminating her with their red spell light, before she was blasted off her feet. She flew backwards through the air and landed flat on her back. She didn't move.

“Blistering barnacles! What on earth do they think they're doing?” Tofty cried, drawn into the drama along with all the students.

Hagrid gave another roar of anger. “COWARDS! I'LL GET YEH FER THAT!”

He was so loud that lights began to turn back on in the castle, further lighting up the fight in front of the cabin. Harry could therefore clearly see the way Hagrid swung his enormous arms around himself. The closest assailants dropped after just one punch, leaving Umbridge alone with one other person. Hagrid ignored them both and bent over. Harry worried that he'd finally been hurt by a spell, but then Hagrid straightened up with Fang slung over his shoulders.

“Get him!” Umbridge ordered.

The remaining Auror made no move to get any closer to Hagrid; instead, he backed away without even looking, so that he tripped over one of his unconscious colleagues and landed flat on his own back. Hagrid turned tail and ran flat out for the school gates. Umbridge shot one last Stunning Spell at him, missing him completely, and then he was swallowed up by the night.

Up on the Astronomy Tower, everyone was gaping at the scene below, unmoving. It took a minute before Tofty cleared his throat. “Five minutes left,” he said weakly.

Harry didn't bother trying to finish off his incomplete star chart. There was no way he could concentrate on it now, not after what he'd just seen. Most of the rest of the year seemed to feel the same way. Hermione, Theo and Tracey, as well as many of the Ravenclaws, made an effort to get back to the exam, but everyone else was too busy watching Umbridge down below.

She moved between the Aurors and Revived them. As a group, they climbed back up the slope to where McGonagall still lay unmoving on the grass. Two of the figures bent over her, but she didn't get up. They spoke quietly amongst themselves, their conversation no longer audible up at the castle, and then two of them conjured up a stretcher. They hauled McGonagall onto it and floated her up to the castle. 

Umbridge hadn't even waited to see if McGonagall was alright. By the time McGonagall was loaded onto the stretcher, Umbridge was already halfway to the castle. Harry went hot with anger over her callousness.

When the exam was finally over, everyone packed up as quickly as possible and hurried down the stairs, where they discussed what had just happened out of earshot of the examiners.

“That – that foul, evil little toad!” spat Hermione, who was shaking with rage. “How dare she try to sneak up on Hagrid in the middle of the night like that!”

“She obviously wanted to do it when there was no one around to see it, since she got shown up when she sacked Trelawney,” said Draco.

“At least his giant blood protected him from their spells,” Harry said.

“Yes, but what about McGonagall? I can't believe this. Dumbledore, Hagrid and McGonagall... Who's next?” Hermione asked bitterly.

“Given her hatred of part-humans, I'd say Flitwick,” said Draco.

“A _third_ Head of House?” Hermione asked, outraged.

“I didn't say that I wanted that to happen,” Draco said, nervously stepping out of smacking range.

“Look, Hermione, I'll go visit my dad tomorrow morning, okay?” Harry said quickly. “He'll be free since the Potions exams are over. He'll know what's going on.”

********

  
Harry walked down the hidden passageway to Severus' quarters feeling uneasy. Apart from Umbridge, none of the staff had been at breakfast earlier that morning. Pansy had suggested that the staff was banding together in a show of solidarity against Umbridge since she'd gone after two of them the night before. Harry wasn't so sure. He couldn't shake the feeling that something was going to happen.

Harry walked into Severus' living room and stopped at the sight before him. Severus was sitting in his usual chair, while the Bloody Baron was hovering over the couch. They both turned around when they heard Harry enter.

“I'll go find him now,” the Bloody Baron rasped.

Severus inclined his head. “Thank you, my Lord.”

The Bloody Baron rose into the air, making his chains clank, and glided towards Harry, who stepped out of the way of the door. The Bloody Baron gave him a dismissive look and floated straight through the wall. Harry blinked after him, then hurried over to the couch. Careful not to sit in the cold spot the Baron had left behind, Harry twisted sideways to face Severus.

“Why'd you call him 'my Lord'?” Harry asked. “It's not like how you call Voldemort the Dark Lord, is it?”

“It is merely the correct form of address for a baron,” Severus said. 

“Oh,” Harry said, feeling foolish. He frowned at Severus, who looked exhausted. His skin was tinged an unhealthy grey and he had dark shadows under his eyes, though he was dressed in his usual robes, not his pyjamas.

“Shouldn't you be studying?” Severus asked.

Harry shrugged. “It's just History of Magic. We both know I won't be getting good marks on that, but I should pass.”

It was a sign of just how tired Severus was when he didn't reprimand Harry for his blasé attitude towards his final exam.

“How's McGonagall?” Harry asked.

Severus slumped down in his seat. “Still unresponsive. She was transferred to St Mungo's earlier this morning.”

Harry's eyes widened. “But she'll be okay, right? She's tough...”

“She was also hit with four Stunning Spells at point blank range, which would be hazardous to someone half her age,” Severus said.

Harry ran a hand through his hair, unsure of what to say. He knew Severus wouldn't welcome empty condolences. “Do you want some tea?”

Severus snorted. “Not yet. It would be rude to drink or eat in front of a ghost.”

“Right,” said Harry, stymied again. “Why are you so tired?”

Severus rubbed the back of his neck. “I spent most of the night in the infirmary with the rest of the staff.”

“To keep McGonagall company?” Harry guessed.

“I was assisting Poppy tend to Minerva. The staff also needed to discuss the events of last night, as well as who would step in as Head of Gryffindor while Minerva is incapacitated, and we figured that Umbridge would be unlikely to enter the infirmary and be faced with the evidence of what she'd done,” Severus explained.

“So who's taking it over?” asked Harry.

“Charity has stepped in. She's a Hufflepuff, but as all three of the Gryffindor staff members have been driven from the school, it was either a Hufflepuff or a Ravenclaw. She and the other Heads of House have gone to speak to Umbridge today.”

Severus said the last sentence with a fair amount of bitterness, and Harry thought he knew what had caused it. “You'll get reinstated, you know. As Head of Slytherin. Once the toad's gone.”

“There is no guarantee she will be leaving any time soon,” Severus said. “And do not mention that blasted curse.”

Since that was exactly what Harry had intended to bring up, he snapped his mouth shut. He was beginning to think he should just go, when a clanking of chains announced the return of the Bloody Baron.

“He is waiting outside, Severus. He tried to follow me through the wall, only to be thrown back by your wards,” he said.

His laugh made chills run down Harry's spine. He couldn't understand how Severus could smirk at that, or how he'd earlier calmly been talking to the Baron alone.

“Wards?” Harry asked.

The Bloody Baron turned to stare at him. “The staff here all have wards on their quarters that will prevent Peeves from entering,” he said hoarsely.

“Not anymore,” Severus said, standing up. He walked over to the door and slowly traced his wand around the edge of it, muttering under his breath. Orange light trailed behind his wand, briefly outlining the door, before it faded away. Severus yanked open the door with ill grace. “Enter.”

Peeves bounced inside – literally – and blew a raspberry at Severus. “That's not a very nice tone of voice, Snape.”

“You will listen to what Severus has to say,” the Bloody Baron said.

Harry watched with amused interest as Peeves immediately stopped bouncing. “Yes, your bloodiness.”

“And don't touch anything,” Severus added.

“Is that your favour?” Peeves cackled. “Seems a bit stupid, inviting old Peevesie into your rooms just to stop me from touching anything.”

“Silence!” the Bloody Baron snapped.

Peeves mimed zipping his lips shut. 

Severus eyed him warily. “You will enjoy the favour, I think. I want you to torment Umbridge.”

Peeves' face grew comically delighted at that, but a glance at the Bloody Baron kept him silent.

Severus held up a hand. “Specifically, I want you keep her from sleeping. The wards on her quarters that used to prevent your entry have been taken down so you should have no problems.”

Peeves raised a hand and bobbed up and down in the air. Harry had the uncharitable thought that he looked like Hermione in class.

“You may speak,” the Baron said.

“Just so I'm clear, Snapey,” Peeves said, ignoring the way Severus' jaw tightened at the name, “you're telling me to stop her from sleeping? Why?”

“Because she has gone too far,” Severus said. “She has driven away the Headmaster, and now the Deputy Head lies unconscious in St Mungo's. I want Umbridge to suffer. Depriving her of sleep for the rest of the school year should accomplish that nicely. Though I would have no objections if you also decided to set her office on fire...”

Harry smiled at that, reminded of when he, Draco and Millicent had caused some Cornish Pixies to set Lockhart's office on fire. 

“What's in it for me?” Peeves asked.

“Besides the chance to perform more mayhem?” Severus asked. “Think of this as a way for you to prove your loyalty to this school. Umbridge is doing her best to destroy Hogwarts. You will help us stop her.”

“And if I say no?” asked Peeves, though he seemed interested.

“You won't,” the Bloody Baron growled.

“Just asking,” Peeves said in a wheedling voice.

“Here.” Severus conjured up a box of matches and threw them to Peeves. The poltergeist caught them and examined them enthusiastically. “I trust you know how to use them?”

“I've used them before,” Peeves said happily, slipping the box into a pocket of his coat.

“One more thing. You will not tell anyone about this little meeting. If questioned, neither his Lordship, Harry nor myself had any prior knowledge of your actions,” Severus said.

“So I'm to take all the blame?” Peeves asked petulantly.

“Umbridge already hates you, and Filch has been after you for decades,” Severus pointed out.

“This is true,” Peeves said, smiling in what looked to be fond remembrance. “Okay, I'll do it.”

“Have fun,” Harry said.

“I will, Potty, I will,” Peeves said with another cackle.

With that he zoomed back out of the room. His delighted laughter echoed in the stone chambers after he'd left.

“Thank you for your help today, my Lord,” Severus said politely.

“I'm the Slytherin ghost, Severus, it is my duty to aid the current Head of House when asked,” the Bloody Baron replied. “I'll make sure he does what you want.”

With that, the Bloody Baron also flew back through the wall.

Harry turned to Severus. “You're stopping her from sleeping? That's it?”

Severus snorted and stalked into the kitchen. “Trust me, as someone who has not slept last night, that will suffice.” He rapped his wand on the bench and had a steaming mug of coffee appear in seconds. “Sleep deprivation over an extended period of time can severely affect a person, both mentally and physically, and that's without factoring in the continued onslaught she is facing from the student body.”

“I'll take your word for it,” Harry said.

Severus sipped his coffee then glared at Harry. “Now, go study. I don't care what subject it is, you have to at least pass it.”

Harry just grinned. “Yes, Dad.”

“Oh, and one more thing. There will be a Hogsmeade outing this Saturday. Ostensibly to celebrate the end of exams, but I believe Umbridge is hoping a day out of the school will tire you all out so that the pranks on her lessen,” Severus said.

Harry laughed. “Does she know about Zonko's?”

Severus smirked. “Too bad if she doesn't. Now, you're still banned from going, but you cannot visit me, understand? Umbridge has called me in to a meeting with her.”

“Well that sucks,” Harry said, pulling a face. “What about?”

Severus shrugged. “Either my attitude or yours, I believe. I'll be fine. Just make sure that you are well away from any mischief that those remaining students may perform with half the staff gone.”

Harry nodded. “I told Ladon I'd take him outside once exams were over.”

“Good. You have a habit of attracting trouble, the last thing you need is to go courting it.


	30. In Which Ladon's Greatest Wish Comes True

Late on Saturday morning, Harry said goodbye to his friends in the Entrance Hall as they lined up to get checked over by Filch before leaving for Hogsmeade.

“I'll bring you back some Butterbeer,” Draco promised. 

“Cheers,” Harry said.

He went back down to the dungeons to pick up Ladon, who was waiting impatiently on Harry's bed.

“ _We're going outside?_ ” Ladon asked.

“ _We're going outside_ ,” Harry confirmed.

He reached down so that Ladon could wind himself up Harry's arm, coming to a rest around his shoulders. It was bright and sunny when they got out into the grounds: perfect weather for showing Ladon around.

Harry spent the rest of the day outside, returning to the castle only to pick up some food for a late lunch. Ladon was interested in everything, and asked hundreds of questions about the Quidditch pitch, Hagrid's cabin, and the Forbidden Forest. He got stroppy when Harry refused to take him into the Forest, calming only when Harry informed him of exactly what was in there. 

“ _Okay, we can skip seeing the giant spiders_ ,” Ladon conceded.

He perked up a bit when Harry took him to the vegetable garden and the greenhouses. As luck would have it, Sprout was in the second one, fertilising some plants, and she was happy to chat to Ladon via Harry's interpreting. 

“He wants to know if he can visit here,” Harry said eventually.

“As long as it's not during a class, I don't see why not. Always a pleasure to see someone taking an interest in Herbology, even if they are a snake,” Sprout said. “Now run along, Mr Potter, I need to finish up in here before dinner.”

Harry thanked her and walked off, telling Ladon what Sprout had said. He was walking aimlessly down the drive to the front gates, pointing out the setting sun to Ladon, when he heard someone calling his name. He looked up to see Ginny and Scarlett racing towards him, with Hermione, Neville and Luna trailing behind them.

“What is it?” he called.

Ginny and Scarlett skidded to a stop in front of him. “It's Draco,” Scarlett panted.

“What's Draco?” Harry asked.

“He's been kidnapped,” Ginny said, resting her hands on her knees.

“What?” Harry yelped. “Who by?”

By then, the other three had caught up to them.

“By his father and aunt,” Neville said, clutching at his side.

“Lucius Malfoy and Bellatrix Lestrange have Draco?” Harry asked. A chill swept down his spine.

Hermione nodded. “We were heading back to Hogwarts, and when we were about halfway here we got ambushed. They must have been under Disillusionment Charms because we never saw them. All of a sudden they were there in front of us and Bellatrix had a knife at Draco's throat while Malfoy held us off with his wand. He said – he said if we tried to help Draco, they'd kill him.”

“They didn't attack you?” Harry asked.

Hermione shook her head. “Said they have a message for you. They've taken Draco to the Department of Mysteries, to the Hall of Prophecies. They'll release Draco if you meet them there tonight and fetch something for them.”

“Let's go,” Harry said, spinning around to run up to the castle.

“Excuse me? How did you manage to miss the fact that this is a trap?” Ginny demanded.

“I didn't. I'm going to see Dad, he'll know what to do,” Harry said over his shoulder.

“ _What's happening? Why do you smell of fear?_ ” asked Ladon.

“ _Draco's in danger_ ,” Harry hissed back as he ran.

“ _Let me know if I can help_ ,” Ladon said at once. 

Harry didn't reply, just sped up towards the castle. He tried his best not to think of how scared Draco must be – he knew all too well what it was like to be abducted by Death Eaters. If he let the memories in now, if he thought about Draco getting tortured, his feet faltered and his breathing hitched. 

Never before had it taken so long to get to Severus' office. Finally, he was running down the familiar, dungeon corridors. He burst in without knocking and came to an abrupt stop. The room was empty. He heard the others catching up to him and sped back out of the door. “He must be in his quarters,” he said as he raced past them.

He burst through the tapestry that hid Severus' quarters and slammed his hand on the guard stone and barged through yet another door.

“Dad? DAD!” Harry shouted. He shot a look at the kitchen then headed for the bedroom. It was empty, as was the bathroom. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

“He's not here?”

Harry spun around to see Scarlett and Ginny standing just inside the doorway, with the others crowded behind them.

“No! I don't know where he could – _Umbridge!_ ” Harry gasped as he remembered. Severus must still be in his meeting with her.

They all set off again, running for the Defence office. When they got to the flooded second floor Harry charged straight into the ankle deep water and waded over to Umbridge's office. He pushed the door open and stepped inside.

“How dare you barge in here without knocking!” Umbridge shouted.

Harry ignored her. “Draco's been kidnapped,” he told Severus.

Severus stood up at once. “By whom?”

“Lucius Malfoy and Bellatrix Lestrange,” Harry said as his friends caught up and crowded into the room behind him.

Severus' eyes widened. “Tell me everything.”

“Potter, I forbid you to start yet another one of your attention-seeking tales!” Umbridge spat.

“We don't have time for this, Umbridge! If Draco really has been kidnapped he's in terrible danger,” Severus snapped at her.

“All you have is Potter's word!” Umbridge replied.

“That's not true. He wasn't even with us when it happened,” Hermione said.

Severus turned to her. “Speak.”

Hermione straightened slightly. “The five of us,” she gestured towards herself, the other girls and Neville, “were on our way back from Hogsmeade with Draco. When we were passing through a group of trees about halfway back, Lestrange and Malfoy appeared. They must have been Disillusioned. We all raised our wands, but they were too fast. Lestrange had a knife at Draco's throat and Malfoy was covering her with his wand.”

“And the five of you just happened to survive an encounter with two Death Eaters, did you?” Umbridge said sarcastically. 

Hermione ignored her. “They had a message for Harry. They've taken Draco to the Ministry. If he meets them in the Department of Mysteries tonight they'll release Draco. If he doesn't, they – they'll kill him.”

“You didn't tell me that part!” Harry cried.

“This is ridiculous,” said Umbridge. “You really think that Lucius Malfoy would kill his own son?”

“Yes!” said six different voices.

Severus glared at Umbridge. “You need to do a head count of all the students and make sure that no one else is missing.”

“Sir, Archie went to warn Sinistra and Flitwick in Hogsmeade,” Scarlett piped up.

“Good, at least they'll take this threat seriously,” said Severus.

Umbridge's eyes narrowed. “You're on probation, Snape.”

Severus stared at her incredulously. “Now is not the time for politics! There is a student in danger!” 

“Snape -”

“You need to inform the Aurors immediately, and then take a roll call of the entire school and make sure that everyone else is safe,” Severus told her.

“You cannot give me orders!” Umbridge said.

Severus turned his back on her. “Miss Lympsham, Miss Weasley, professors Sprout and Vector remained on school grounds. Go inform them and any ghosts you may come across of what has happened. Have them gather everyone in the Great Hall where we can keep an eye on them.”

“Stay where you are,” Umbridge snarled, then slammed her door shut with a flick of her wand. “I will not allow you to rile up the rest of the school!”

Scarlett and Ginny looked from the closed door to Severus. “Sir?”

Harry had been watching the argument with growing anger and frustration. Every second that was wasted on trying to make Umbridge see sense was another second that Draco spent with his father and aunt, who both saw him as nothing more than a bargaining chip. He couldn't help feeling that a giant hourglass was running out of sand as time led closer to Draco's murder.

“ _Ladon, I need your help_ ,” he hissed as quietly as he could.

“ _What do you want me to do?_ ” Ladon asked.

“ _Bite Umbridge and use as much venom as you can_ ,” Harry said, staring directly at her.

Ladon didn't reply; he was already sliding down Harry's back, then his leg, to reach the floor. Harry kept an eye on him as he slithered between everyone's feet to reach Umbridge. Harry couldn't help feeling a sick sense of pleasure when he saw Ladon stop in front of Umbridge. The snake paused, his black tongue flicking out wildly, before he reared up, his mouth opened, and he struck her ankle in a green blur.

“Ow!” Umbridge gasped. She bent down to see what had happened and saw Ladon already slithering away to hide under the desk. “What did you do?”

“Told my boomslang to bite you,” Harry told her. “You don't have long before the venom starts to kick in, so I suggest you get to the infirmary for the anti-venom.”

“What?” Umbridge gasped.

“The venom's quite lethal, you know. I'd hurry if I were you, before the haemorrhaging starts,” Harry said.

“You'll pay for this, Potter,” she snarled. She glared at Severus. “You're coming with me.”

“What for?” he demanded.

“Because I need anti-venom and I want the Potions master of this school present,” she replied.

“Very well,” Severus said through gritted teeth.

He turned and stiffly followed Umbridge to the door.

“Dad, no!” Harry shouted. How could Severus leave with Umbridge when Draco needed him?

Severus turned back. “It will be fine, Harry. This shouldn't take long.”

His tone was pointed enough that Harry could tell he was trying to convey some deeper meaning without Umbridge cluing in. Unfortunately, Harry himself had no idea what Severus was trying to tell him. He watched in dismay as his father left the room.

“What do we do now?” Neville asked.

Harry was still staring at the doorway after Severus. “I'm going after Draco.”

“To what, hand yourself over to the Death Eaters?” asked Ginny.

“I'll think of something. I always do,” Harry said.

“If you're going, I'm going with you,” Hermione said. “He's my best friend as well as yours.”

“Yeah, and he's our friend, too,” Neville said quietly, pointing at himself and the younger girls.

Harry ran a hand through his hair. “Guys, we can't all go.”

“Why not?” Ginny demanded.

“Because -”

“Potter, if you try to stop us, I'll tell Draco that you didn't want to bring along extra back up,” Scarlett said. “He'll be pissed at you.”

“Isn't this why we started the DA? So that we could learn to fight? To protect ourselves and our friends?” asked Neville.

“Fine,” Harry said, not wanting to argue and waste any more time.

“I hope we don't need to go out of the front gates,” Luna said.

Harry spun around to see her looking out of the office window. “How come?”

“Flitwick and Sinistra are bringing the rest of the school up the drive now. They'd stop you from leaving,” Luna said.

“If only we could Apparate,” Scarlett moaned.

“You can't Apparate within Hogwarts,” Hermione said automatically.

“You can if you're a house-elf,” Harry replied.

“Yeah, well, who of us has one of those?” asked Ginny.

Harry's mouth dropped open as he remembered something Dobby had said, the day after Harry's name had come out of the Goblet of Fire. “Dobby will come if Harry Potter calls,” he muttered to himself, then raised his voice. “Dobby!”

A few seconds later Dobby Apparated in with a loud crack. “Harry Potter called Dobby?” he asked cheerfully.

Harry leaned down. “Hi, Dobby. I need to ask you a favour. Can you take us to the Ministry of Magic?”

“Of course,” Dobby said, sounding offended.

“Okay, can you Apparate Hermione and me there?” Harry asked.

Dobby nodded. “Yes, Harry Potter! That is being easy for Dobby.”

“And me,” Scarlett said, moving to stand next to Dobby. “I'm not letting you get there and then stop Dobby from coming back to get us.”

Harry glowered at her; that was exactly what he'd been planning on doing. “Fine. _Ladon, go back to the dorm and stay there till I get back_.”

Harry and Hermione joined Scarlett next to Dobby. They grasped his arms and then he was Apparating them away. They landed in the Atrium of the Ministry of Magic, which appeared to be completely deserted.

Dobby shook free of the teenagers. “Dobby will be back soon,” he said, then Disapparated with a loud crack.

Harry jerked around at the sound, certain that it would have alerted someone to their presence, but they were entirely alone in the Atrium of the Ministry of Magic. Unlike the other time Harry had been here, the many fireplaces lining the walls were cold and dark. The golden gate through which Harry knew they had to pass was empty, with no sign of any security personnel. Apart from Hermione, Scarlett, and Harry himself, the only movement in the entire hall was the streams of water in the golden fountain, and the movement of golden symbols across the shadowy blue ceiling high above.

“I've got a bad feeling about this,” Harry muttered.

“Oh, now he's got a bad feeling about this,” Scarlett said to Hermione, her voice thick with sarcasm.

“It _is_ rather quiet, even for a Saturday evening,” Hermione said warily.

“Right? There should be a guard over there, for a start,” Harry said, pointing at the security gate.

Just then Dobby returned with Luna, Ginny and Neville.

“Is Harry Potter wanting anything else?” Dobby asked.

“No, thanks, Dobby,” Harry said quickly, not wanting to drag the elf into danger.

“It is being Dobby's pleasure to help Harry Potter and his friends!” Dobby said, before Disapparating one final time.

“You know, we probably could have asked Dobby to let Narcissa know what was happening,” Hermione said.

Harry nearly hit himself for not thinking of that. Who better to have with him to rescue Draco than his powerful, protective mother? “Dobby!” He waited expectantly, then spun on the spot. “Dobby!” He raised his voice as much as he dared, but it was no use. There was no sign of the elf.

“He must be busy,” Hermione said.

Harry nodded miserably as his hope faded.

“Quit moping, we came this far without Draco's mum,” Scarlett said.

“You're right. Let's do it,” Harry said at once, before running towards the lifts.

He pressed the first “down” button he came to and before he knew it, a lift was clanging its way to their level. Its golden bars opened noisily to reveal an empty lift, and they all rushed inside. Harry waited for everyone to get inside then slammed his hand down on the buttons for the ninth floor, which was the only floor below the one they were on.

“How do you know where we're going?” Hermione asked.

“McGonagall said the Department of Mysteries is underneath this floor,” Harry said as the lift began to descend.

His answer reassured Hermione, who merely nodded. The lift came to a stop and the smooth female voice announced, “Level Nine, Department of Mysteries”. The doors slid open to reveal the corridor that Harry had dreamed about constantly, before he learned Occlumency.

“It's this one,” he said quietly, hustling everyone out of the lift. They began walking cautiously down the corridor with their wands drawn.

Despite the noise the lift had made on its descent, there were still no security guards around. “Is this place usually deserted on weekends?” he asked in a whisper.

“I don't think so. Dad goes – Dad went in on weekends, sometimes, and I'm pretty sure there should be people here,” Ginny said quietly.

“So the Death Eaters might have gotten to some Ministry employees on their way in,” Neville said grimly.

“Maybe they should have spent some time increasing their security instead of denying Voldemort's return,” Hermione said.

Harry stopped in front of the plain black door at the end of the corridor. It had been months since he'd dreamed about it, but it looked exactly as he remembered it – right down to the lack of handle. Just as he was about to raise a hand to it, to see if maybe he could feel an invisible handle, the door swung open.

“That's not ominous,” Hermione muttered.

Harry stifled a snort and stepped over the threshold, finding himself in a circular room. Large and empty, like the corridor they'd come from it was entirely black, apart from the blue candles dotted about the wall. Their light flickered coolly over the black tiles, making the room look as if its floor was made of water and reminding Harry of the way the lake coloured the Slytherin common room. The resemblance did nothing to calm his jangling nerves. There were about a dozen identical doors lining the wall, all plain, black and handless.

“Shut the door,” Harry whispered.

The second Scarlett did so, Harry regretted it. He hadn't realised how much light had been coming in from the corridor behind them. The room was now much darker, the blue candles not doing much to light it. After a few seconds Harry's eyes began to adjust to the dimness, and he relaxed marginally.

“Which door is it?” Neville asked.

“I don't know,” Harry said.

Just as he finished speaking, there was a deep, resonating sound, and the wall began to spin around them. It picked up speed, until the blue candle light seemed to be a continuous line around the room, before it stopped suddenly.

“How are we going to get back out?” Ginny asked.

Harry looked from her to the doors in alarm. She was right; all of them were completely identical, and the teenagers had no way of telling which one they'd entered through only moments before.

“We'll worry about that once we've got Draco,” Harry said, putting as much confidence into his voice as he could.

“And how are we going to find him?” Hermione asked.

“We try the doors, of course,” Luna said.

“Right,” Harry said. 

He looked around them, and with a shrug, marched over to the nearest door. He rested his palm on it, readied his wand for whatever was on the other side, and pushed it open.

Harry was standing at the top step of a stone amphitheatre. The steps descended for half a dozen metres, to a stone pit. In the centre of the pit was a stone platform, on which stood a stone archway. It was so old and crumbled that Harry thought he could make it collapse with a finger. There was a tattered, black veil hanging in the archway. It moved in the still room as if affected by a wind Harry couldn't feel – or as if someone had just walked through it.

“Is anyone here?” Harry called in a loud whisper.

No one answered, but the veil showed no signs of stilling any time soon. Harry clambered down the stone steps to get a closer look.

“Be careful!” Hermione whispered.

Harry didn't reply; he was too entranced by the archway. There was an odd beauty to it that Harry found soothing in a way he couldn't articulate. This close, he felt that someone was standing on the other side of the veil.

“We should leave,” Hermione said, sounding completely unnerved.

“Draco?” he whispered.

There was again no answer. Pointing his wand at the veil, Harry slowly edged around the dais, not taking his eyes off the archway. There was no one standing on the other side of it, but when he got back to his starting position, he found Ginny standing there, staring at the veil. Luna and Neville were on the lowest step behind her, also staring at the veil. Hermione and Scarlett were still halfway up the steps, Hermione frowning with worry and Scarlett with impatience.

“Gin, Luna, let's go,” she said.

“But there are people in there,” Luna replied.

“What do you mean in there?” Hermione asked, reaching out to take hold of Scarlett's hand.

Harry returned his attention to the veil. Now that Luna had mentioned it, he could hear them, too; faint voices came from the veil. Harry didn't recognise any of the voices, but he felt very strongly that they meant him no harm, and that he should join them. Without pausing to think, he stepped up onto the dais to get closer to the veil.

“Harry, _don't!_ ” Hermione cried.

He ignored her, and was presently joined by Ginny. 

“Dad?” she asked in a quavering voice. 

The voices kept whispering, making no sign that they'd heard Ginny.

“Dad?” she asked again. “Daddy?”

Something about that made Harry pause and turn to her. Ginny was staring, transfixed, at the veil, her wand held limply by her side and her other hand reaching out to touch the veil. She took a small step forward, but it was enough. Something in Harry's brain kicked into gear and told him that this was wrong, that Ginny was calling out for a dead man as if he were standing on the other side of the veil.

“Come on, Ginny,” he murmured.

He grabbed her outstretched hand and guided her off the dais. Hermione and Scarlett moved forward to fetch Neville and Luna. Harry walked Ginny up the stairs and back into the circular room, only letting go of her hand when they were safely out of the stone chamber. When the other four had joined them, Harry made to shut the door, but Hermione knocked his hand away.

“ _Flagrate!_ ” she said, making two slashing motions with her wand.

A fiery red “X” was inscribed on the door. The warmth of the flames did something to quell the unease that the archway had left in Harry.

“What was that?” he asked, finally pulling the door shut.

The wall once again rotated, this time with a red cross joining the blue candle light.

“I don't know, but it was dangerous,” Hermione said.

She shot a glance at Ginny, who was very pale and blinking back tears, though she raised her head determinedly.

“Which door's next?” she asked.

“This one,” Scarlett said, moving to the closest one and pushing it open.

Harry followed her inside to a much more colourful room. Paintings adorned every wall; there were statues on plinths and smaller sculptures on shelves; there were large basins of water, reflecting candlelight up onto the ceiling; a low, long table held a few dozen books, scrolls and tablets, all of which looked incredibly ancient. Over it all hung a cloud of cloying smoke, courtesy of the many sticks and bowls of incense scattered around the room.

“What is this?” Neville asked, peering up at a painting of a woman springing out of a man's forehead.

“It's religion,” Luna said. She pointed at what Harry had thought were sculptures. “See? There are relics from religions from all over the world.”

“It's also a dead end and Draco's not here. Let's go,” said Harry.

They hurried back into the circular room, where Hermione again inscribed a red cross on the door they'd just come out of. When the room finished spinning, Harry again pushed open the nearest door. He immediately held his hand up to his eyes as they were assaulted with an incredibly bright, glittering light. After the dimness of the circular room, it was almost painful. 

It was the first room that hadn't been eerily quiet. Instead, there was a furious cacophony of ticking, coming from the hundreds of clocks inside the room. Grandfather clocks stood like pillars along the walls, with smaller clocks crammed onto shelves between the larger clocks, or standing on desks in the centre of the room. 

The blinding light was coming from a large bell jar that sat on a desk near the other end of the room. Inside it there seemed to be a sparkling wind swirling around and lifting something up. And on the wall behind it was another door. Harry set off for it at once.

“He's not here, Harry,” Neville said.

“No, but there's a door at the far end of this room,” Harry replied.

He heard the others scramble to catch up to him. As he passed it, Harry glanced at the bell jar. The wind inside was slowly lifting up a small, glimmering egg. As it rose, the egg cracked to reveal a tiny hummingbird. It got carried right up to the top of the bell jar before falling back down to the bottom. As it did so, its feathers dampened and stuck together, before the bird was once again inside its egg.

“Wow,” Ginny said, slowing down to look.

“We don't have time,” Harry said.

“At least this room isn't creepy,” Scarlett muttered behind him.

Harry ignored her and pushed open the door. It swung open silently to reveal an enormous room. Like the circular room, it was lit by blue flames, dull after the brilliance of the clock-filled room and doing nothing to dispel the chill in the air. The entire place was filled with row after row of tall shelves, each of which was covered in dusty orbs, exactly the same size as the crystal balls Harry had used in Divination.

“This has to be it,” Harry whispered.

“Are you sure? This place looks gigantic, it could take ages to search it,” Hermione whispered back.

“Those balls look like the crystal balls we use in Divination. They have to be related to prophecies,” Harry replied.

“And this is definitely big enough to classify as a hall,” Luna agreed.

“We're at row fifty-three,” Ginny said, pointing out a silver number at the end of the nearest row.

“We'll have to split up, to search faster,” Hermione said, very unwillingly, peering up and down the aisle they were in. “Three of us go this way, the other three go that way.”

Harry nodded just as unenthusiastically. “You go with Neville and Ginny. Scarlett and Luna, we're going this way. If we stick to this aisle we can at least keep each other within eyesight. If anyone finds anything, light your wand so the other group can see.”

Everyone nodded and, with one last, fearful look at Hermione, Harry led his group away to the right. Scarlett was next to him, peering down the rows with him, and Luna brought up the rear, keeping an eye on the others in case they signalled.

As they crept along, Harry was forcibly reminded of making his way through the maze in the Triwizard Tournament. He had the same feeling that he was being watched. He tried not to think about how that had ended up for him. No one talked, and Harry was listening intently for any sound of Draco.

When they reached row ninety-four Harry heard a groan. He froze, holding out his hand to catch Scarlett. “Did you hear that?” he breathed.

Scarlett nodded shakily, and turned to Luna, who also nodded. She lit her wand with a whispered “ _lumos_ ” and waved it from side to side before quickly dousing the light. A second later an answering glow came from far down the aisle.

Relieved to know that the others were okay and on their way, Harry resumed walking, slower and more cautiously now, his wand held up at the ready. He poked his head around the next few corners with far more care, until he saw two dark shapes lying on the floor, halfway down row ninety-seven. One of them had very distinctive pale blonde hair. The other was masked and wearing Death Eater robes.

“He's here!” Harry whispered.

He dashed forward, keeping his wand trained on the other shape. He skidded down onto his knees next to Draco, who was lying curled on his side. There was a trickle of blood coming from his mouth but he was conscious. Barely.

“Draco? Can you hear me?” Harry asked, linking his fingers with Draco's.

Draco groaned again and his eyes sought out Harry's. “Harry?”

“Yeah,” Harry said, smiling with relief. “We've come to save you.”

He heard the others arrive, and then Hermione was kneeling next to Harry and holding Draco's other hand. To Harry's surprise, Draco flinched away from her.

Hermione noticed, too. “Oh, no, did I hurt you?”

“No,” Draco said, struggling to sit up.

Harry and Hermione gently supported him as he sat up, and then got to his feet. His robes were splattered in blood, but didn't appear to be from the blood that had dribbled out of his mouth.

“What happened?” Harry asked.

“They left me here with a guard. I don't know who he is, but he wasn't too bright. I managed to get my wand back off him and then Stun him,” Draco said.

Harry grinned. “Guess the DA paid off then.”

“Yes...” Draco said. He looked past Harry and Hermione to the others, who were standing with their wands aimed at the unconscious Death Eater. “Is this it? This is everyone who came to rescue me?”

“Who were you expecting?” Harry asked, feeling a little nettled. 

Draco shook his head. “No one. I thought I was going to be killed.”

“I'd never let that happen,” Harry said, instantly guilty.

“We need to get the prophecy and get out of here before anyone else arrives,” Draco said.

“The prophecy?” Harry asked.

“Yes, up there,” Draco said, pointing at an orb a couple of metres away.

As the tallest, Neville wandered over. “It has your name on it, Harry.”

“How do you know where the prophecy is?” Hermione asked.

“I – the Death Eaters were looking at it earlier,” Draco said.

“We don't need it. We just need to get out of here,” Harry said.

He went to put an arm around Draco, who seemed unsteady on his feet, but Draco pulled away out of his reach. 

“No, we need to get the prophecy! It's really important!” he said.

“Why? We already know what's in it,” Harry said.

“I'll tell you later, once we're safe again. Just stop being a git and pick it up so we can leave!” Draco said.

Harry took half a step forward before Draco's words registered properly. Since when did Draco ever call Harry a git?

With a snarl, Harry spun around, slammed Draco against the nearest shelf and jammed his wand into Draco's throat. He ignored the startled cries of his friends and glared into the other boy's face.

“Who the hell are you and where's Draco?”


	31. In Which the Second Wizarding War Begins in Earnest

When the person posing as Draco merely spluttered, Harry dug his wand in further.

“Wrong answer! Where's Draco?” he asked through gritted teeth.

Hermione tried to pull Harry's wand away. “Harry, be careful! I heard what he said, too, but what if it's really Draco?”

“An excellent question.”

Harry took his eyes off the imposter just long enough to register that the Order of the Phoenix had arrived. Moody and Tonks pushed forwards to secure the still unconscious Death Eater. Kingsley, Sirius and Remus were pulling Neville, Scarlett, Luna and Ginny away. And standing behind Hermione were Narcissa and Severus. Harry didn't know which one of them was angrier, but he decided to answer Narcissa's statement before worrying about Severus. 

“Draco called me a git,” Harry told her.

Moody snorted behind him. “Bit sensitive,” he muttered to Tonks.

Severus and Narcissa, however, caught the significance at once. Moving in tandem, they flanked Harry and aimed their own wands at the imposter. Severus leaned forward and sniffed. 

“Polyjuice,” he reported.

The imposter looked at Harry desperately. “Harry, please! It's me! Draco! Mother, tell him it's me! Please, Mother! Please! Harry!”

“ _Prove it, then_ ,” Harry ordered him in Parseltongue.

This close, he could see it in those familiar grey eyes when his quarry realised the game was up.

“Very good, Potter.”

The drawl was at once familiar and completely foreign. It was Harry's turn to repress a shudder of revulsion.

“Lucius!” Narcissa cried, pressing her wand into his forehead with enough force to make the skin begin to turn an ugly red.

“Is this anyway to greet your beloved husband?” Malfoy sneered.

“I have no husband. What have you done with our son?” Narcissa demanded.

“I have no son,” Malfoy spat. “Not anymore. You corrupted him, turned him into a blood-traitor like yourself.”

“WHERE IS HE?” Narcissa screamed into his face.

Malfoy merely smirked. “He's alive. A bit worse for wear – he proved most uncooperative, no doubt due to your influence – but he's in one piece.”

“If I have to kill you with my bare hands to get him back, I will,” Narcissa growled. Harry, for one, didn't doubt that she would follow through.

“What, like a filthy Muggle?” Malfoy sneered. “Killing me won't achieve anything. No, _wife_ , the only way you will ever see your useless, disappointing brat of a son again is if Potter gives us the prophecy.”

“Why? I told the Dark Lord what it said,” Severus said.

Malfoy bared his teeth at him. “The Dark Lord has his reasons, Severus. You used to agree with them, once upon a time.”

“That was a long time ago,” Severus said quietly.

“Enough. Give us Draco and we'll give you the prophecy, Lucius,” Narcissa said.

Kingsley stepped forward. “Narcissa, no! Dumbledore said -”

“Dumbledore has neglected to tell us why it is so important to keep the prophecy out of the Dark Lord's hands,” Narcissa said harshly.

Malfoy laughed. “How very pragmatic of you. Very well. Bring the hostage!”

There was a flurry of movement at Malfoy's shouted command. Kingsley reached forward and drew Hermione back to stand with Ginny, Neville, Luna and Scarlett. Together with Sirius and Remus, Kingsley stood with his back towards the teenagers and aimed his wand outwards. Tonks and Moody got up off the floor and joined them, leaving Harry standing with Severus and Narcissa in front of Malfoy.

While the Order was getting into defensive positions, shadows were emerging from the darkness around them. The Order was soon surrounded by almost a dozen Death Eaters, all of whom were masked and hooded. The shortest of them stepped forward, causing Narcissa to pull Harry close to her side, so that he was pressed between Severus and Narcissa. A second later Harry realised why Narcissa was so wary of this particular Death Eater.

“What a lovely family reunion,” the Death Eater said. “It's a pity that Andromeda and Regulus couldn't be here.”

She pulled off her mask and lowered her hood, and for the first time Harry found himself face to face with Bellatrix Lestrange. Even though her years in Azkaban had left her wasted and prematurely aged, she was still recognisably related to her sisters. She was so similar to Andromeda, in fact, that if it were not for the decidedly insane glint in her eyes, Harry would have thought he was looking at an ill Andromeda.

“Where is my son?” Narcissa demanded.

“That's not a very nice way to greet me after all this time, Cissy,” Bellatrix said with a fake pout. “I've missed you an awful lot.”

“The feeling is not at all mutual,” Narcissa spat.

“So I've heard,” Bellatrix replied. Her features hardened and she snapped her fingers.

Behind her, another Death Eater appeared, hauling along the struggling figure of Draco by his right arm. Draco was gagged, his face bruised and swollen. By the way he was keeping his left side oddly still, Harry suspected he was also injured. He was pushed roughly to Bellatrix's side. She grasped his left arm with her nails, smiling when he let out a muffled cry of pain.

Bellatrix reached up to caress Draco's face before roughly yanking the gag out of his mouth. “Say hello to mummy, Draco.”

Draco licked his lips. “Mother... Harry...”

“Now the prophecy, Potter,” Malfoy prompted.

“Not until I'm sure that this is actually Draco,” Harry said, not taking his eyes off Draco. “ _What were you going to bring me back from Hogsmeade today?_ ”

Draco frowned for a moment before he remembered. “ _Some Butterbeer_.”

“It's him,” Harry reported.

“Such distrust,” Malfoy sneered. “Now fetch me the prophecy.”

Harry looked up at Severus, who nodded once. That was all the answer Harry needed. The Death Eater in front of the prophecy moved closer to Malfoy, allowing Harry through. Severus put a hand on his shoulder and stepped forward with him, shielding him from Bellatrix while Harry stopped in front of the shelves of prophecies. 

There, a little above Harry's eye line, was a dusty prophecy with a faded old label stuck to the shelf beneath it. In an old-fashioned hand was written a date in early 1980, and below that:

_S.P.T. to A.P.W.B.D._  
_Dark Lord_  
_and (?) Harry Potter_

Harry reached up and pulled the prophecy off the shelf. He thought it would be cool, given that it was glass in a cold room, but the orb felt warm in his hand. He spared half a glance at the swirling light within it then turned back around. Severus immediately pushed Harry against the shelves, his hand still on Harry's shoulder, blocking any way of attacking him from behind and keeping himself between Harry and Bellatrix.

“Give it to me, Potter,” Lucius ordered softly.

“Let Draco go,” Harry said at once.

“On three,” Kingsley said, his deep voice uncharacteristically tense. “One.”

Malfoy held out his hand for the prophecy while in front of him, Narcissa stretched her left arm out to Draco. Her right arm kept her wand pointed steadily at Malfoy; both Severus and Harry had their own wands trained on Bellatrix. 

“Two,” Kingsley said.

Bellatrix dragged Draco in front of herself, and Harry edged closer to Malfoy. Severus' grip on Harry's shoulder tightened.

“Three!” cried Kingsley.

Harry threw the prophecy underarm to Malfoy, who caught it neatly. At the same time, Narcissa reached out to grasp Draco's free hand, only for Bellatrix to yank Draco back out of Narcissa's hold, pulling him back against herself and holding her wand to his throat. Tears of pain gathered in Draco's eyes at the rough treatment, and he froze at once and stared at his mother, silently begging her to do something.

“Give me my son,” Narcissa hissed through gritted teeth.

“Hmm... No!” Bellatrix said, cackling.

“You can have him back once we're out of here,” Malfoy said. He edged around Harry and Severus to join Bellatrix and the three Death Eaters behind her. He held up the prophecy to Harry. “Most obliged, Potter.”

That was all the opening Severus needed. “ _Confringo!_ ” he shouted, aiming his wand at the shelves just above the heads of the Death Eaters in front of him. They exploded, causing the Death Eaters to raise their hands over their heads as fire and glass shards rained down on them in a deathly deluge. Harry would have been struck, but Severus had already propelled him down the aisle. Harry could hear screams and shouts behind him, and chanced a look over his shoulder. He was relieved to see Narcissa and Draco sprinting after them, with Narcissa helping along a limping Draco, but behind them, all Harry could see was fire and smoke.

When they got to the end of the aisle Severus yanked Harry around to the right, barely slowing down to round the corner.

“We can't just leave everyone!” Harry shouted.

“Yes, we can! The rest of the Order's protecting them!” Severus shouted back.

Harry still didn't like it, but he had to admit that Severus was right. “The door's the other way!” he cried.

“It's not the only door in here!” Severus replied.

Harry shut up at that and focused on breathing, hoping desperately that the rest of his friends were okay. After about twenty rows Harry caught sight of the door Severus had known about. It turned out to open onto a long room lit by low hanging golden lamps. There were a few desks near the outer edges of the room, all facing a large tank in the centre of the room. It was filled with a dark green liquid and had what looked to be brains floating around in it. Harry sincerely hoped they weren't human; he did not want to know what the Ministry might be doing with a bunch of brains.

Narcissa and Draco ran in half a minute later, slowed down by Draco's injuries. Narcissa slammed the door shut and shot a spell at it, presumably locking it behind them.

“Tower Bridge?” she panted at Severus.

He nodded and took hold of Harry's arm, and spun them around in a circle. They came to a stop in time to see Narcissa and Draco also spinning on the spot.

“They must have hit us with Anti-Disapparition Jinxes,” Severus said grimly. “We'll have to use the exit.”

Just as Narcissa nodded, a door behind her slammed open. Harry and Severus had both raised their wands at the newcomers before they realised who they were. Neville and Sirius were covered in smudges of soot but appeared otherwise unharmed. Like Narcissa before him, Sirius shut the door and locked it with his wand, but he didn't slow down. 

“We've got a tail!” he said, leading Neville to the door that Narcissa had locked only moments before.

“That goes back to the Hall of Prophecy,” Severus said.

“So they won't be expecting us to return. Now move, Snape, unless you want to deal with a pissed off Bellatrix,” Sirius replied.

The mention of Bellatrix jolted both Severus and Narcissa into action. They were all nearly at the door leading back into the Hall of Prophecy when the door that Sirius and Neville had come through was unlocked with a shouted Unlocking Charm. The door was pushed open to reveal Bellatrix and three masked Death Eaters.

“They're in here!” one of the Death Eaters bellowed.

Sirius aimed his wand at the tank and flicked it a few times. With a massive groan, the tank tipped over, sending a deluge of stinking green liquid towards the Death Eaters. At the same time, the brains burst up out of the tank and flew through the air towards the Death Eaters. Thick tendrils unravelled behind each brain, looking to Harry like rolls of film. The brains hit the Death Eaters and immediately began wrapping them up in their tentacles.

“GO!” Sirius shouted.

He led everyone back into the Hall of Prophecy, which now smelled strongly of smoke, and once again locked the door behind them. “That bought us some time but they'll be after us in a minute or two,” he said.

Severus nodded. “We need to split up. Apart from Moody, we're the five biggest targets. Lucius will be after Narcissa and Draco; Bellatrix will be after all three Blacks and myself; everyone wants Harry; and they'll all be after this.”

With that, he pulled the prophecy out of a pocket in his robes.

“Why do you have that? I thought you said it didn't matter if they got it since we know what's in it!” Harry said.

“I used to think so, but if the Dark Lord wants it this badly, there must be something we don't know,” Severus said. “I swiped it from Lucius' hand as I passed him.”

Narcissa nodded briskly. “Draco and Sirius will stay with me; Severus, you stay with Harry and Neville. Meet us at Tower Bridge once you're out.”

With that, she, Draco and Sirius headed down an aisle straight ahead, while Severus led Harry and Neville right, along the edge of the room.

“Why Tower Bridge?” Harry asked as they ran.

“Never retreat to a safe house if you think you may have a tail,” Severus replied. “We'll regroup there and consider our options.”

“Sir, I should take the prophecy,” Neville said.

“Why?” asked Severus.

“No one will suspect me,” Neville replied. “Even if they notice me, they definitely wouldn't think you'd ever give it to me.”

Severus gave Neville an impressed look and handed him the prophecy. “Very well. Guard it, but if it comes down to it, it's better that it gets destroyed than that it falls into possession of a Death Eater.”

“Yes, sir,” Neville said, sticking the prophecy in his pocket.

They'd only gone a few metres further when they heard the door slam open behind them.

“There! No, Macnair, you come with me,” shouted Lucius Malfoy in his own voice; the Polyjuice had clearly worn off. “Bellatrix and Rodolphus, you take Snape and Potter! And remember, don't smash the prophecy!”

“Down here!” Harry yelled, pushing Severus and Neville sideways down an aisle and out of sight. Not a second later a jet of green light from a Killing Curse shot down the aisle they'd been running down.

“That would've been Bellatrix,” Severus said. “She and her husband are unstable – Bellatrix especially – and thus unpredictable, as evidenced by her attempt to kill us seconds after being told not to smash the orb.”

They turned right again when they got to the centre aisle that crossed theirs, and nearly tripped. Their way was strewn with collapsed shelves and broken orbs, and a thick cloud of smoke hung over the far end of the hall.

“What did you do, Dad?” Harry asked, coughing in the smoke.

“This isn't all from my curse,” Severus said, putting a sleeve over his mouth.

They ran down the aisle, jumping over the larger pieces of shelves and crushing shards of glass to dust under their feet. They passed the area where row ninety-seven had once stood. None of the shelves were standing. One section had been completely obliterated by Severus' Blasting Curse, leaving only burning sections of shelf on the floor. 

The rest of the shelves had been knocked over in a domino effect, scattering all the orbs across the floor. Every now and then one of them would get too hot from the flames and shatter. Whenever this happened, a smoky shade would rise out of the orb, speaking the prophecies contained within. 

On the floor was the still body of the Death Eater Malfoy had claimed to have overpowered earlier, while posing as Draco. Harry had no idea if he or she was alive or dead, and Severus didn't suggest they stop to find out. They sped past, then cut left into the first undamaged aisle they came across. They ran to the end of it and turned right, and found themselves at the door through which Harry and his friends had first entered the Hall of Prophecy.

The room of clocks had clearly been the site of a battle. The clocks along one wall had all been smashed, as had all of the hour glasses. The sand that had been inside them had been spilled all over the floor, and Neville immediately slipped on it. He was only saved from falling flat on his face by Harry's quick reflexes. He managed to get a hold of the back of Neville's robe and keep him upright.

They were nearly at the door that led back into the circular room when they heard footsteps behind them. 

Severus whirled around. “ _Protego!_ ” 

A second slower and Rodolphus' curse would have hit Neville. As it was, it bounced off and went careening back towards Rodolphus and Bellatrix, who both ducked.

“ _Stupefy!_ ” Harry shouted.

Bellatrix deflected his spell and shot a bolt of jagged blue light at him. Severus' Shield Charm protected Harry, but it cracked visibly before dissolving with the force of Bellatrix's spell. Harry shattered the bell jar with a Reducto Curse, then Severus sent the glass flying at Rodolphus, slicing his robes and one side of his face. Bellatrix used the same blue light curse, aiming at Severus this time. Having seen the curse break Severus' Shield Charm, Neville grabbed Severus by the arm and dragged him down to the floor behind a desk, letting the curse shoot over the top of them and out through the doorway.

“ _Petrificus totalus!_ ” Harry said, aiming at Rodolphus.

The Death Eater froze in the act of aiming his wand at Harry and crashed to the floor. Harry had just turned back to face Bellatrix when she sent another blue light curse at him. It hit his right shoulder, sending burning pain up and down his arm. The pain was so bad that he dropped his wand.

Harry crouched down to pick it up with his left arm, as his right was twitching uselessly, and hoped that he was mostly sheltered behind a desk. Bellatrix had given a delighted laugh when his wand dropped and he knew he didn't have much time before she was sending another curse at him.

“ _Stupefy!_ ” Neville shouted, the same time that Severus yelled, “ _Expelliarmus!_ ”

Bellatrix cast a Shield Charm, but with two spells flying at her from different angles, it couldn't protect her fully. Neville's spell was deflected, but Severus' hit home, sending Bellatrix's wand flying through the air into the far corner.

“Move!” Severus cried, grabbing both Harry and Neville by the backs of their robes and hauling them upright. 

They turned and ran out of the room, back into the circular room. Harry slammed the door shut with his good arm and seconds later the wall was rotating around them once more. Harry was dismayed to see that Hermione's crosses had all faded; they once again had no way of knowing which door led where or, perhaps more urgently, which ones had Death Eaters behind them.

“Show us the way out,” Severus said.

To Harry's amazement, that phrase seemed to be some sort of password. A door to their left opened to reveal the black corridor. The three of them raced through the door and down the corridor. Harry hit the up button for the lifts. To his alarm, none of the doors opened immediately.

“Someone's already taken them upstairs,” he said.

Severus nodded. “When we get inside the lift stick to the sides. Do not attempt to exit immediately upon our arrival. We'll wait a second for any curses that are fired into the lift and then cast Shield Charms before moving out, understood?”

“Yeah,” said Harry. Beside him, Neville nodded, his hand straying to his pocket to check that the prophecy was still safe.

Just then, all the torches in the corridor went out at once.

“ _Lu_ -” Harry began, only to be cut off halfway through the incantation by Severus clamping his hand over his mouth.

“Don't move,” he whispered. “Any light will make us easier targets.”

Harry froze and tried to quell the tremors still plaguing his right arm. He didn't know what curse it had been hit with, but its effects didn't seem to be abating at all.

“Who wants to come and play with me?” Bellatrix asked in a sing-song voice.

Harry could hear her slow, measured footsteps coming from around the corner. She wasn't stumbling in the dark; either she had outstanding night vision, or she had a hand on a wall to steady herself. Behind them, he could hear the lift making its way down to them, far too slowly for his liking. He felt Severus shift his wand arm at Bellatrix's words.

“I'll go first then, shall I?” she said.

“ _Stupefy!_ ” Severus cried, firing blindly at her.

The red light of his spell shot off in the direction her voice had come from. There was a rustling of fabric, then Bellatrix cackled. “That's not very nice, stealing the first move like that, Snape!”

The lift opened with a loud clatter, spilling light into the dark corridor. Harry caught sight of Bellatrix raising her wand at them before Severus pulled him backwards into the lift, pressing them both against a side wall. Neville was flat against the opposite wall, frantically pressing the button to go up.

Finally, thankfully, the doors started to slide shut. Bellatrix sent another curse at them – a blistering fireball that smashed into the rear wall of the lift and set it on fire – but Severus doused it with water from his wand. Bellatrix sent one last spell at them, hitting nothing but the water Severus had conjured, and then the doors were shut and the lift was rising up to safety.

It wasn't the only thing rising.

The water Severus had used to extinguish the fire had pooled on the floor and was rapidly filling up the lift, courtesy of Bellatrix's parting shot. It was up to Harry's waist a second after the doors had shut and it showed no signs of stopping. The entire lift would be filled in only a few more seconds – far quicker than it would take for the lift to reach the Atrium. 

Harry took as deep a breath as he could a second before the water washed over the top of his head. He floated underwater hoping the lift would hurry up – that Bellatrix hadn't managed to stop its ascent somehow – as the pressure on his lungs grew steadily stronger.

Finally, blessedly, the doors opened and spewed the contents of the lift – hundreds of litres of water and three drenched humans – out over the floor of the Atrium. Harry went sprawling forwards, sliding across the floor at high speed directly towards the railing to one side of the security gate. He slammed into it with his left shoulder, with Neville and Severus crashing into him a moment later and pinning him to the railing.

Harry wriggled free with some difficulty and looked around the hall, which was filled with thick, swirling smoke, obscuring visibility, but he could tell that the hall was rather more occupied than he'd been expecting. 

Back near the lifts, Sirius and Draco had been swept off their feet by the water and were in the process of getting back up. Sirius seemed fine, but Draco was unhealthily white and was cradling his left arm to his body as Sirius tried to pull him up by his right. Hermione and Kingsley were standing in front of them, shielding them from both Malfoy and a masked Death Eater Harry assumed must be his partner, Macnair.

In the very centre of the Atrium Narcissa was engaged in a vicious duel with Malfoy. Spells were passing between them at a rapid pace, getting deflected all around the room in showers of of multi-coloured spell light. A particularly nasty one had left the doors of one lift behind Narcissa partially melted, as if it had been doused in acid. Both Narcissa and Malfoy were moving so fast that no one could attempt to join the duel, for fear of hitting an ally.

Careful not to turn his back on the duel lest a stray spell head his way, Harry got up and leant over to pull Neville and Severus to their feet. To his horror, he found Neville crouching next to an unconscious Severus. By the looks of things, he had hit his head on the railing. He seemed to be beginning to stir; his eyelids were moving with the movement of his eyes and his right hand was twitching as if searching for his wand, which was on the floor next to him. Harry knelt back down with a splash to check him over. When he couldn't find any bleeding on Severus' head, Harry figured the only thing he could do was to Revive him.

To his relief, Severus' eyes opened immediately. He quickly shut them with a groan of pain. He forced them open again with a grimace. “Where are we?”

“Atrium. We're okay. Narcissa's battling Malfoy and there's another Death Eater sending curses at Hermione and Kingsley,” Harry reported, helping Severus sit up.

Severus immediately leaned sideways and threw up. Harry watched the vomit swirl away in the water, his fear increasing. “Dad, you're concussed. We need to leave. Now.”

“It's likely,” Severus said. 

All of a sudden he looked past Harry and his eyes widened in alarm. He jerked his wand up swiftly. Harry turned his head to see that Bellatrix had just stepped out of a lift. Severus' spell had sent a wall of water towards her, knocking her back into the lift. The effort seemed to have been too much for Severus, whose eyes fluttered shut again as he slumped back to the floor.

Bellatrix was soon back on her feet, her eyes alight as she watched the duel in the centre of the room. Sirius noticed her reappearance and redoubled his efforts to get Draco standing again. Harry sent another Stunning Spell at her, but since he was still using his left hand, the spell went wide. His spell hit the wall with a burst of red light, making Hermione spin around and immediately send her own Stunning Spell at Bellatrix. Bellatrix merely laughed and ducked the spell, then moved around the edge of the room, past Macnair, putting Narcissa and Malfoy between her and anyone else.

“Kill her, Lucius!” she called gleefully, clapping her hands.

If Narcissa was at all hurt by her sister's words, she didn't show it. “ _Expelliarmus!_ ” she shouted, diverting her attention from Malfoy long enough to Disarm Bellatrix. 

Bellatrix gave a howl of rage and went to retrieve her wand from where it had landed near the railing. Narcissa turned back to Malfoy with a smirk, only to have it quickly wiped from her face.

“ _Crucio!_ ” he snarled.

Narcissa dropped her own wand and fell to the floor screaming when the curse hit her. Draco gave an inarticulate cry and lunged, wandless, towards his mother, only to have Sirius pull him back out of harm's way. Kingsley sent a bolt of purple light straight at Malfoy, who brought up a Shield Charm at the last possible second. It deflected Kingsley's spell back towards him and Hermione, forcing them to drop to the floor, but the break in his concentration did mean that the Cruciatus Curse ended.

Malfoy looked down at Narcissa scornfully as she lay whimpering at his feet. “You brought this upon yourself, you whore. Leaving me for that Auror – ruining my son... I should have killed you in January.”

There was a ping as another lift arrived. Harry raised his wand in that direction, only to see Remus and Scarlett edging their way out carefully. Remus took stock of the situation and immediately aimed his wand at Malfoy.

“No you don't, werewolf!” Bellatrix screamed.

She'd reclaimed her wand and used it to send yet another fireball. Remus was quick enough to dive out of the way, but Scarlett had been staring at Draco in concern, and didn't see it coming. It hit her in the side of the face and engulfed her head instantly. She began shrieking and raised her hands to her face.

Harry scrambled over to Scarlett and pulled her to the ground to roll her around in the water. He had to pry Scarlett's hands away from her face in order to fully douse the flames that were melting her flesh. It seemed to take an eternity to Harry, but finally, he extinguished the last of the flames.

The terrible smell of burnt flesh hung in the air after the flames had died away. Harry felt sick as he looked down at the melted, blistered flesh. The entire left side of Scarlett's face was a painful red, with both her right eyebrow and a good chunk of her hair burnt away. She'd thankfully passed out from the pain.

Remus crawled over just as Harry was about to start casting some healing spells. “I've got her, Harry. Just give me some cover.”

“What are you doing?” Harry asked.

Remus easily lifted Scarlett up into his arms. “I'm taking her to St Mungo's. I need to leave now if she's to have any chance of keeping the vision in her eye.”

Harry gulped and nodded. “Hermione! Help me distract Bellatrix!” he hissed over to her.

Hermione glanced over, saw Scarlett lolling in Remus' arms and immediately swung back around to face Bellatrix. “ _Petrificus totalus!_ ” she cried, the same time that Harry cast a Disarming Spell.

Bellatrix shielded herself, but Hermione's spell was ricocheted into Macnair, who fell to the floor. Harry and Hermione kept up a steady stream of covering spells towards Bellatrix, with Kingsley joining in, while Remus ran through the puddles as fast as he could, heading for the exit. He sprinted past the golden fountain, reached the nearest fireplace, threw in some Floo powder and disappeared in a blaze of green.

Sirius had finally succeeded getting Draco standing, and was now dragging him through the puddles towards the security gate. Draco was struggling feebly but was too injured to put up much of a fight.

“I don't want to leave Mother!” he said through gritted teeth.

“She'd want you safe,” Sirius growled back at him. “We need to get out of here.”

“I'll cover Narcissa, you lot get Severus and Neville and take the Floo out of here,” Kingsley said.

He began edging around the wall, sending a rapid series of spells at Bellatrix so that she couldn't help Malfoy. Narcissa had gotten back to her feet and was once again battling Malfoy. 

Harry and Hermione scurried over to Severus, who was struggling to get up with Neville's help. The three of them managed to get him on his feet, though he had to lean heavily on Harry. Sirius and Draco arrived a few seconds later.

Sirius gestured for Hermione and Neville to take hold of Draco. “Get him out of here. I'll go help Narcissa and Kingsley.”

“Leaving so soon, Draco?” Malfoy called.

“Don't you dare speak to him!” Narcissa spat, sending a curse at him.

Malfoy blocked it and looked at her with a sneer. “Oh, but wife, I had a most interesting chat with him earlier today. Did you know that when under the Cruciatus Curse, you and your son both twitch in exactly the same way? It's uncanny. Shall I show you?”

Narcissa's face contorted with pure rage and she drew her arm back. “ _AVADA KEDAVRA!_ ” she screamed.

Harry watched with shock as a jet of green light headed straight for Malfoy. It hit him square in the chest and he keeled over without a sound. His body landed in a puddle with a splash, sending waves rippling out over the floor.

For a moment nobody made a sound as they all just stared at Malfoy's body. Narcissa slowly lowered her wand as if surprised by her own actions.

“You'll pay for that, Cissy!” Bellatrix shouted. “ _Avada Kedavra!_ ”

It was lucky that Kingsley had such quick reflexes, because Narcissa barely reacted as a bolt of green curse light headed straight for her. Kingsley jerked his wand up, raising not only the floor, but the ground as well, creating a thick barrier of packed earth and floorboards. The curse hit the barrier and shattered it, sending long splinters and globs of dirt in all directions. Harry covered his head with his good arm just in time. Sharp pain stabbed into his wrist not a second later. 

He slowly lowered his hand to see a piece of wood a few centimetres long sticking out of the back of his wrist. He scowled at it. The shaking in his right arm was finally abating, so he took hold of his wand and, with gritted teeth, Harry pulled the splinter from his wrist. “ _Episkey_ ,” he said quickly. He watched the hole seal itself, then looked around at the others. “Everyone okay?”

“My wand,” Neville said in a panicky voice, holding his wand up. The top had been sheared off. “The curse hit it. It's broken!”

“We need to leave,” Severus said, sounding woozy. “We'll take the Floo – I can't Apparate like this without risking Splinching us.”

“Where to?” Hermione asked.

“Umbridge's office,” Severus said at once. “You get Neville and Draco there, then go straight to see Madam Pomfrey.”

“What about Umbridge?” Neville asked.

“She is quite indisposed,” Severus replied.

A second later he swayed and Harry hurriedly caught him, thankful that his right arm was finally working again. “You okay?”

“I'll survive,” Severus said.

“Sir, the prophecy's gone,” Neville said nervously. “It smashed when we fell out of the lift.”

At the news Harry's scar burned, and he felt a bolt of rage go through him.

Severus pressed his lips together and nodded. “At least the Dark Lord didn't get hold of it. Just get going. We'll follow.”

Neville helped Draco walk off down towards the fireplaces. Hermione was right beside them with her wand held up at the ready. The three of them were much faster than Harry, who had to half carry Severus along. It was a good thing Harry had had a bit of growth spurt in the past year. He was able to walk along with Severus' left arm slung over his shoulders, with Harry's right arm wrapped around his waist, gripping his wand tightly. He saw his friends disappear in a blaze of green flames and felt relieved that they, at least, had gotten away safely. The sounds of the battle behind them started to fade, and Harry began to think that maybe he and Severus would be able to get away too.

“At least you're lighter than Dudley,” he said.

“That's not difficult,” Severus panted.

Harry snorted, then gasped in pain as his scar burned again, more fiercely this time. He came to a stop next to the Fountain of Magical Brethren.

“Is it your arm?” Severus asked.

“No,” Harry said, shutting his eyes against the pain. “My scar. He knows the prophecy's gone.”

“Occlude, Harry,” Severus said.

“Yeah, I know,” Harry said, trying to do just that. It was difficult when it felt like his head was about to split in two.

“Occlude now!” Severus said more desperately.

“It's too late for that,” said a new voice.

Harry opened his eyes to see Voldemort standing in front of them, his wand pointing directly at Harry. Rage burned in his red, snake-like eyes.

“You destroyed my prophecy,” Voldemort said dangerously.

Harry said nothing. His mind was blank: he couldn't see a way out of this. His arm was mostly recovered but still felt weak, and in any case his movement was hindered by the fact that it was wrapped around Severus, who could barely stand unaided.

“You have ruined my plans too many times. I shall kill you in front of your traitorous father before I kill him too. _AVADA KEDAVRA!_ ”

To Harry's utter astonishment, the centaur from the fountain chose that moment to leap out of the water in order to stand between Harry and Severus and their death. The spell hit the statue in its broad chest and shot off to Voldemort's left.

Voldemort's eyes narrowed as he looked over Harry's shoulder. “Dumbledore.”

Harry twisted his head around to see Dumbledore walking calmly towards them, as if he hadn't just deflected a fatal curse. Voldemort sent another Killing Curse at Dumbledore, who disappeared, reappearing on the other side of the fountain. He waved his wand at the other statues, who all came to life. The house-elf and goblin ran off down the hall, towards the fireplaces, while both the witch and wizard charged at Voldemort.

Voldemort turned the floor into a quicksand like substance, trapping both the statues where they stood. They still struggled towards him, but were so slow that they no longer posed a threat to him.

By unspoken agreement, Harry and Severus began backing away from the fight, heading as quietly as they could for the side of the Atrium, where they could try and help Dumbledore from the sidelines.

Voldemort raised the water from the bottom of the fountain, turning it into shards of ice that he sent hurtling straight at Dumbledore. He waved his wand and the ice turned into feathers which slowed then stopped. They grouped together in mid-air, becoming a gigantic eagle which wheeled around and headed for Voldemort, its talons ready to rake his face. 

Voldemort turned the eagle into a snake and sent it back towards Dumbledore with its fangs bared.

“ _LEAVE HIM!_ ” Harry shouted with as much authority as he could.

His Parseltongue was useless against a snake transfigured by Voldemort. It ignored him completely and continued its charge towards Dumbledore. At the last second Dumbledore flicked his wand and sent the snake flying over his shoulder. It dissolved into smoke before it could hit the ground.

Voldemort shot another Killing Curse at Dumbledore who again disappeared from view, popping up again down near the security desk. He shot a golden bolt of light at Voldemort, who deflected it with a Shield Charm, which made a deep, gong-like sound when struck.

Voldemort laughed. “You refuse to kill me, Dumbledore? I can see that at least one of your own doesn't share your ideals – one of my Death Eaters lies dead just beyond you.”

“There are worse things than death, Tom,” Dumbledore said.

“You lie!” Voldemort cried, sending yet another Killing Curse.

Dumbledore again Apparated a few metres away. “No, Tom, you're sadly mistaken. But then, your greatest weakness has always been your complete and utter terror of death. I assure you that there are many things worse than death.”

“You're wrong,” Voldemort sneered.

With that he disappeared again. Harry looked around and couldn't see him reappear. “He's gone?” Harry asked hopefully.

“Do not move!” Dumbledore shouted.

Harry and Severus both froze; Dumbledore sounded scared, something they hadn't seen before in this fight.

“Where is he?” Severus asked urgently.

Dumbledore held up his free hand for him to be quiet. A moment later Severus had let go of Harry to fall to the floor, clutching his left forearm. At the same time, Harry's scar burst into renewed, stronger pain, and he too fell to the floor, where he lost all sense of what was happening around him. All he knew was the pain inside his head, radiating out from his scar until it enveloped his entire body. It was worse than the curse Bellatrix had hit him with, worse even than the Cruciatus Curse. Harry was sure it would kill him where he had fallen.

He could see in his mind the coils of a monstrous creature. Its red eyes glared malevolently at him while its body tightened its grip on him until Harry was sure that he'd been absorbed through its skin to become part of it.

Then it loosened its grip somewhat. The pain in Harry's scar lessened to a level which, while still agonising, was not so severe as to prevent him from opening his eyes.

He found himself lying on the ground. Without meaning to, Harry pushed himself to his feet easily and faced Dumbledore, who was watching in horror.

“You say there are things worse than death.”

The words issued unbidden from Harry's mouth, and he realised with terrified revulsion that it was the creature, it was Voldemort, who was speaking from inside Harry.

“I'd like to test that theory,” said the monster inside Harry.

“Occlude,” Severus croaked from the floor.

Harry was turned to look at him. He tried and failed to stop his wand from raising. He desperately thought of his Occlumency shield. He felt a momentary sense of lightness, of being on his broom, before he was brought back to reality.

A cold, hideous laugh issued from his mouth. “ _Crucio_ ,” he was made to say.

Harry wanted to turn away, to cover his ears, to lift his wand away from Severus who was screaming on the floor. A part of him, though, was enjoying it, was getting pleasure from seeing Severus contorting in pain. The horrible laugh was coming out of his mouth again. From the corner of his eye Harry saw his most loyal servant, Bellatrix, running towards him, an ecstatic look on her face even though there was someone chasing after her.

“Master, I am here! I knew you would come! I -”

Harry felt a renewed surge of anger when a Stunning Spell hit Bellatrix in the back, sending her sprawling onto the floor. He channelled his rage through his wand, intensifying the Cruciatus Curse, and making Severus convulse with pain.

Unable to deal with any of that anymore, Harry's mind detached. He found himself flying in a peaceful blue sky, flying lazily up towards the fluffy white clouds that shielded him from the worst of the sun's heat.

The clouds multiplied, thickened, becoming dark and stormy. A sense of danger made Harry look over his shoulder. There behind him was a monstrous serpent, far larger than the basilisk could ever have hoped to have become. Its face had familiar red eyes in it. It laughed in a cold, high-pitched voice as it flew through the air after Harry.

Harry deployed every evasive manoeuvre he knew. He ducked, he banked, he circled around, and dove straight down to the ground. Finally, he flew directly at the serpent. It was too slow to turn, and Harry was soon shooting past its head, then its body and tail, before he was able to speed off past it. He didn't look back, just flattened himself along the handle of his broom in order to get as much speed as possible.

He was heading for the sun, which had reappeared from behind a bank of clouds, when all of a sudden Harry's physical surroundings popped back into his view. He was back in the Ministry of Magic; Severus was lying on the floor in front of him, no longer screaming; Dumbledore was standing close by with his wand up; and the sounds of many people came from further down the hall.

“Dad!” Harry cried, flinging himself onto the ground. He rolled Severus onto his side and nearly melted in relief when Severus' dark eyes opened.

“He's gone, Harry. We are safe,” Dumbledore said.

“Bellatrix?” Harry asked, not looking away from Severus.

“Voldemort took her with him when he Disapparated,” Dumbledore said. “The rest of the Death Eaters are all incapacitated below, save for Lucius Malfoy and Walden Macnair, who are as you last saw them.”

Harry heard more footsteps, coming not from the crowd heading towards him from the fireplaces, but from behind Dumbledore. He spun around with his wand raised, only to lower it again when he saw Sirius and Kingsley pulling Narcissa towards them.

“Harry, are you okay?” Sirius asked urgently.

Harry nodded. “Yeah.”

Sirius gave him a weak smile. “Good. I'll see you later. I've got to get Narcissa home before the Aurors start asking questions.”

With that he guided Narcissa past the fountain. He pushed his way through the crowd that was streaming towards them, and soon both he and Narcissa were out of view. At the front of the crowd a pyjama-clad Fudge was stumbling towards Harry, tugged forwards by the statues of the house-elf and the goblin.

“You-Know-Who was here!” he cried.

Dumbledore ignored him and knelt down to lift up a loose piece of floorboard. He handed it to Harry. “ _Portus_ ,” he said. The floorboard glowed blue and shivered in Harry's hand, then stilled. “This will take you to my office. I will meet you and Severus there in half an hour.”

“You cannot make a Portkey in the Ministry of Magic!” Fudge said angrily, hastening his pace.

“Half an hour,” Dumbledore said.

Harry gripped the floorboard and pressed Severus' hand to it. The last thing he saw was Fudge and a group of Aurors converging on Dumbledore, then the Portkey was taking him and Severus away in a nauseating swirl of colour and sound.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really enjoyed reading everyone's guesses as to who was posing as Draco. It was very cool to see some of your theories!
> 
> Shout to the following people for correctly guessing the identity of the fake Draco: CorylusAvellana, his_geronimo_her_spoilers, Red_Griffin, MyLittleAngel, lucky turkey, CannibalHolocaust and Jarek.
> 
> Honourable mentions to OSeiSan (who guessed Ron), miserychick (who posited that it was Barty Crouch Jr, who is a Time Lord). You both really made me laugh.


	32. In Which Dumbledore Tells the Truth for Once - About One Thing, Anyway

Harry and Severus landed heavily in Dumbledore's office. Harry's legs buckled a bit with the impact while beside him, Severus was still prone on the floor. Harry dropped the Portkey onto the carpet and helped Severus get to his feet.

“Are you okay?” Harry asked, searching Severus' face for any sign that he was going to pass out or vomit. Or both.

“I will be. Come on,” said Severus, turning towards the fireplace.

“Where are we going?” asked Harry, following closely in case Severus fell again.

“My quarters. We are both in need of medicinal potions and Poppy will be busy,” Severus replied.

He reached up to the bowl of Floo powder on the mantelpiece, dropped some into the fireplace and called, “my quarters!”

He pulled Harry into the fire with him, and after a short, green-tinged trip later, they were spat out into the living room of Severus' quarters. They both fell onto the floor where they lay for a moment before slowly, painfully, getting back up.

“Sit,” Severus ordered, pointing at the couch. “I shall be back momentarily.”

Harry did as he was told, stupidly grateful that Severus had said he would return. Given that Harry had been made to cast the Cruciatus Curse on Severus not that long ago, Harry would not have blamed Severus if he had chosen to avoid Harry for a while.

A few minutes later Severus emerged from the bathroom with a number of potions vials clutched to his chest. He was walking slowly and carefully, clearly still feeling the effects of having been knocked out. He laid the bottles out on the coffee table and pushed half of them over to Harry.

“Drink.”

Again, Harry obeyed without question. He swallowed the familiar taste of a pain reliever and Pepperup, along with a dull, woody potion he had never taken before.

“What was that last one?” he asked, sinking back against the cushions.

Severus finished his own potions before answering. “Nerve restorative. To combat the damage Bellatrix inflicted upon your arm.”

He leaned forward to put his last vial back onto the coffee table and then relaxed against the back of the couch with a groan and shut his eyes. Harry eyed him warily for a few minutes, unsure of how Severus could be so calm.

“Dad...” he began, then stopped. What was he supposed to say? Sorry I tortured you? Sorry I laughed while doing it?

When Harry didn't continue, Severus opened his eyes and turned his head to look at Harry. He was clearly exhausted, but one look at Harry's face had him alert and twisting to face Harry fully. “Harry, it was not your fault. The Dark Lord had possessed you. You are not responsible for what happened to me. Not at all.”

Harry stared back at him miserably. “How can you stand to be near me?”

“Because it wasn't you,” Severus said firmly. 

“Part of me enjoyed it,” Harry whispered.

“That would have been the Dark Lord, not you,” Severus said. “I know you, Harry, you'd never take pleasure in torturing someone.”

“I should have Occluded when you told me to,” Harry said bitterly.

“That would have been preferable, but you managed to expel him from your mind eventually. Clearly we need to continue training you in Occlumency, since the Dark Lord is far better at penetrating your mind than I am,” Severus said.

Harry just stared at him. He did not understand why Severus sounded so calm about this. Harry himself had had trouble being near Moody when he had first seen him, and Crouch, when posing as Moody, had never done anything nearly as bad to Harry.

“You don't trust me,” Severus said.

Harry's foot slipped off the edge of the couch at that. “What? What makes you say that?”

“When I left you and your friends in Umbridge's office this evening, you left the grounds rather than wait for me to return,” Severus said.

“Well, yeah. She'd convinced you to go to the hospital wing with her. I had no way of knowing how long you'd be, and Draco was in trouble,” Harry said.

“You did not believe that I would return as soon as I could?” Severus asked.

“No, I thought she had you,” Harry said honestly.

Severus raised an eyebrow. “I only left with her so that I could Obliviate her.”

“Obliviate her?”

The eyebrow rose a little higher. “You had just told her that you had deliberately set Ladon on her. How could I let her leave knowing that you had attempted to murder her?”

“Oh, that,” Harry said sheepishly.

“Yes, that,” Severus drawled. “I Obliviated all memory of what you'd said, then escorted her to the infirmary and left her in Poppy's care.”

“And you don't think that Pomfrey might recognise a Memory Charm and fix it?” Harry couldn't help but ask.

“Not after I'd explained the circumstances to her,” Severus said.

Harry's mouth dropped open. “You told Pomfrey that you Obliviated Umbridge?”

“Of course I did. Poppy has Ladon's anti-venom. I knew she would be able to get the venom out of Umbridge's system with no trouble, but I didn't want her worrying about why Umbridge seemed disoriented or was having trouble with her memory,” Severus replied.

“And Pomfrey's okay with that?” 

“She has no love for Umbridge, believe me,” Severus said darkly. “Back to my point, I would never have allowed Umbridge to monopolise my time when there was a student confirmed to be missing and the majority of the other students were still out of the school grounds. And I definitely wouldn't leave you alone when I know how you like to go haring off into danger.”

“I don't hare off,” Harry protested weakly.

Severus snorted. “You may have forgotten your actions on the morning of your last birthday, but I haven't. I knew you'd want to go after Draco yourself and I knew I had little time to dispose of Umbridge and stop you. I had not anticipated that you would disappear from the school grounds within ten minutes. How did you?”

“You can't hold this against him. He was only helping,” said Harry.

“Who?”

“Dobby.”

“Narcissa's cross-dressing house-elf?” Severus asked in surprise.

“Yeah. He said once that he'd come if I summoned him, and he did. He took us all to the Ministry. After he'd Disapparated, Hermione suggested we send him to fetch Narcissa, to let her know what had happened, but he never came back,” said Harry.

Severus snorted. “No, I would imagine not. As I escorted Umbridge to the infirmary, I sent a Patronus message to Narcissa, telling her that there was an emergency and I would be arriving at Grimmauld Place shortly. Naturally, that caused quite a disturbance. There isn't a house-elf alive – even a free elf – who would leave their mistress to attend a non-family member at a time like that. As it happened, Tonks and Moody were already at Grimmauld Place, so we had a sizeable rescue party ready to go. I don't know why Dobby didn't tell Narcissa what had happened, though. He never has a problem speaking his mind to her.”

Harry fidgeted. “We didn't tell him why we needed to go there. He didn't know he was taking us into danger, or that anything had happened to Draco. You can't take this out on him,” Harry said.

“Oh, I shan't. I will, however, be having a conversation with Narcissa about her leniency with her servants,” said Severus.

“Don't you think she's already in enough trouble? She did just use an Unforgivable. Won't the Ministry go after her for that, even though they now have to admit that Voldemort's back?” asked Harry.

“I trust that she will avoid going to Azkaban,” said Severus calmly.

“What, because Malfoy was trying to kill her? I didn't know you could use Unforgivables in self-defence,” said Harry. 

“You can't. I was referring to the fact that, as perhaps the only useful thing he's ever done, your godfather spirited her away to a house under the Fidelius Charm. If she doesn't leave voluntarily they can't force her out,” said Severus.

Harry thought about that. “She'd still be a prisoner, though. Just without the Dementors.”

“Being confined to Grimmauld Place is a far better fate than being sentenced to Azkaban,” said Severus.

“I guess...” Harry said. He couldn't help thinking about all the times he'd been locked up at the Dursleys'. At least Narcissa liked the people she lived with, he supposed.

“Come on, we'd best get back to Albus' office before he returns,” Severus said wearily. 

They took the Floo back up to the Headmaster's office and this time, stayed on their feet as they exited the fireplace. All the portraits were sleeping, but Fawkes had returned. He was sitting calmly on his usual perch as if he'd never left all those months ago and watched Harry and Severus with bright-eyed interest.

Severus walked over to the desk and rapped it with his wand. A tea tray appeared on it moments later. Severus poured himself a cup and then sat down, leaving Harry to follow suit.

Harry took his tea over to the chair next to Severus and sank down. He didn't particularly feel like talking to Dumbledore right then. He just wanted to make sure that his friends were okay and then sleep for a week. Harry suspected that if he hadn't recently drank Pepperup Potion, he'd have fallen asleep shortly after sitting down. 

They hadn't been waiting long before the fireplace flared green again. The tall, spinning form of Dumbledore appeared inside the flames and stepped out neatly into his office. Most of the portraits lining the walls gave welcoming cheers at his arrival.

“Thank you,” he said, walking over to take the seat behind his desk. He gave a faint smile when he saw the steaming pot of tea and a third cup waiting on the desktop. “And thank you for ordering tea from the house-elves, Severus,” he said, helping himself.

Severus nodded once. “I gather you have sorted things out at the Ministry?”

“Not everything, no, that will take far longer than half an hour,” Dumbledore said mildly. “I have, however, been reinstated as Headmaster by the Minister for Magic himself, who suddenly seems to want my opinions on a whole range of matters. My first act is, of course, to return my staff to their usual positions. The Minister has agreed to recall the Aurors hunting Hagrid and allow him to return – he should be back any day now – and Severus, you will be Head of Slytherin once more, if you still want the position.”

“Of course I do,” Severus said at once.

“As I expected. Though I've heard that Professor Sinistra performed admirably in your stead – I must remember to thank her for that, as well as Professor Burbage for looking after the Gryffindors in Professor McGonagall's absence...” Dumbledore mused.

“Minerva will be returning, won't she?” Severus asked sharply.

“Oh, yes. I imagine that the staff of St Mungo's will be quite pleased to be rid of her. She has been most vocal about wanting to leave for some time now,” Dumbledore said, his beard twitching. “And Harry, Miss Lympsham is expected to make a full recovery and should be back with us before the end of term. The rest of your friends are currently in the infirmary – I believe young Mr Black needed particular attention from Madam Pomfrey – but neither he nor the others will have any lasting damage.”

“Good,” Harry breathed out in relief. “What about Narcissa?”

Dumbledore's face darkened slightly. “I cannot say that I am pleased with her choice of spells tonight -”

“Lucius was goading her about having tortured Draco. He's lucky she didn't flay him alive,” Severus said harshly.

“Ah, yes, that would seem to be an unwise course of action on his part...” said Dumbledore. “Nonetheless, though her actions have placed her in a difficult legal situation, she has rid us of one of Lord Voldemort's more dangerous followers.”

Harry had to bite his tongue at the hypocrisy of that. “You're not going to tell the Ministry where she is, are you?”

“No, she will remain safely hidden at Grimmauld Place,” Dumbledore assured him. “I have to confess, Severus, that I was somewhat surprised that she was the only one of the Order to have cast an Unforgivable Curse tonight. I rather feared that if you found Harry threatened by Death Eaters that your anger may get the better of you.”

Severus' face turned stony. “I told you I will never again cast one of those curses. I keep my word.”

Harry shifted uncomfortably as Severus glared at Dumbledore, who was watching him closely.

“Yes, you do keep your word, don't you?” Dumbledore said, breaking the tense silence. “I distinctly remember you promising to protect Harry many years ago, and just look at you now. I don't think either of us could have believed back then that you would one day adopt him as your own.”

“Something that I distinctly remember you trying to dissuade me from doing, Albus,” Severus shot back.

Dumbledore sighed heavily. “An old man's folly, Severus. I thought at the time that it was a mistake to remove Harry from his relatives' home, away from the protection afforded him by Petunia Dursley's blood... I see now that you are more than capable of looking after him at your home.”

“Is this why you have asked us here? To tell us that you approve of the adoption?” Severus asked.

“No, my boy. I have brought you here to tell Harry something I should have told him five years ago. It is not necessary for you to remain with us, Severus. You should probably go see Madam Pomfrey yourself. I will bring Harry down presently.”

Severus glanced at Harry, who shook his head. Severus turned back to Dumbledore and made no move to leave. “I'm fine,” he said.

Harry nodded quickly. “Anything you tell me I'm going to tell him anyway, sir. He may as well hear it directly from you.”

Dumbledore's gaze flicked between Harry and Severus, before he nodded slowly. “Very well. It begins, of course, with the blood protection we were speaking of. Few people would have seen the necessity of it directly after Voldemort's disappearance. But I knew, Harry, that he wasn't dead, and that he would be coming after you once he returned.”

“Because of the prophecy,” Harry said flatly. He knew this already.

Dumbledore inclined his head. “I know that Severus informed you of its existence two years ago. But there is more to the story that Severus did not tell you – because he does not know the full story himself.”

Severus leaned forward. “I was right. There's more to the prophecy than what I overheard. That's why the Dark Lord sent his followers to the Ministry tonight.”

“How can there be more to it? You told me all about it,” Harry said.

“Did Severus tell you that he was caught eavesdropping in the Hog's Head? That he was thrown out by the barman before the Seer could finish speaking the words of the prophecy?” Dumbledore asked him.

“No...” Harry answered, but he wasn't looking at Dumbledore. He was watching Severus, who had gone white.

“Why have you not said anything before now?” he whispered.

“Is it not obvious?” Dumbledore asked, looking between Severus and Harry. “I cared too much for you, Harry. It was the one flaw in my plan to keep you safe. I couldn't bear the thought of divulging information that I knew would cause you pain. I had plenty of opportunities to tell you. After you defeated Voldemort in your first year, I visited you in the hospital wing and we discussed the blood protection Lily left you. I could have told you then. I could have told you in your second year, after you returned from the Chamber of Secrets and undoubtedly had questions about why a memory of a teenage Voldemort was so interested in you. 

“Most glaringly, I should have told you after you returned from the graveyard in Little Hangleton last year. I knew Voldemort was back, that he would be after you, and yet I still could not bring myself to tell you why. I knew the pressures and pains you already suffered in your life, and could not bring myself to add to them. In failing to do so, I acted as Voldemort expects of those of us who love.”

“Bollocks,” Severus said fiercely. “Some of us who love Harry believe that he has the right to be fully informed of anything that will affect him so that he may better prepare himself and, more importantly, have a say in his own sodding life.”

Harry gaped at him, for both swearing at Dumbledore and the fact that Severus had just said that he loved Harry. Neither of them had ever said it directly to each other before, though Harry knew it was true. His stomach did a funny little twist and he gave Severus a small smile. It was only returned fleetingly, as Severus soon went back to glowering at Dumbledore.

“I did not mean to imply that you do not care for Harry, Severus. I am aware that you have been telling Harry much about both his past and the current activities of the Order of the Phoenix,” Dumbledore said quietly.

Severus glanced at Harry. “Get to the point.”

“As you wish,” Dumbledore said, then sighed. “Harry, Voldemort tried to murder you when you were a baby because he believed, due to the prophecy, that you would be the only one capable of defeating him. He realised, after his curse on you backfired, that he must be mistaken in some way, that he must be missing some piece of the puzzle. This is why he has been so fixated on getting the recording of the prophecy into his hands for the past year, to find the information he's missing.”

“Well, he'll have to think of something else. The prophecy got smashed this evening,” Harry said smugly. 

“Voldemort's plans have been foiled in this endeavour,” Dumbledore agreed.

“But you can recite it for us, Albus,” Severus prompted.

Dumbledore didn't reply. Instead, he got up and walked over to a black cabinet next to Fawkes' stand. He pulled from within it a shallow stone basin that had carved around its edges strange markings which Harry thought might be runes of some kind. Dumbledore returned to his desk and placed the basin on the desktop. He then raised his wand to his temple and withdrew it again, pulling silvery, spider-web-like strands from his own head. He lowered the silvery stuff into the basin, where it swirled around, lighter than a liquid yet heavier than a gas. He sat back down and looked at Harry, as the silvery stuff in the basin illuminated his face from below and aged him dramatically.

“This is a Pensieve, Harry. It allows one to remove excess thoughts or memories and view them as needed, before returning them at will,” Dumbledore explained. He poked the surface of the Pensieve with the tip of his wand.

An image of Trelawney emerged out of the Pensieve, wispy and unsubstantial. She revolved slowly, her feet in the silvery substance in the Pensieve, and spoke in the guttural voice that Harry had heard her use only once before.

“ _The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not... And either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives... The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies..._ ”

Trelawney slowly submerged back into the Pensieve, merging with the still swirling silvery mass. Harry watched her disappear then twisted around in his seat to face Severus, who was whiter than ever.

“Dad?” Harry asked, pleased when his voice didn't shake. “Does this – this means that I do need to kill him after all, doesn't it?”

Severus met his gaze and nodded with pursed lips. “You -” he broke off and cleared his throat. “Yes. You do.”

Despite the warmth of the office, Harry felt cold all over. “I'm not ready,” he said in a small voice.

“I'll help you,” Severus said at once. “Now that we know -” he shot another glare at Dumbledore “- that you do need to kill him, I can train you.”

Harry could tell he was trying to remain calm, to appear supportive, but Severus' face was bone white and his mouth was tight with unhappiness.

“What's this power that Harry is supposed to have that the Dark Lord doesn't?” Severus asked.

“Isn't it obvious?” Dumbledore replied. “It's love.”

Harry and Severus shared a sceptical look. “Love?” Harry repeated.

“Yes, Harry, love,” Dumbledore said steadily. “There is a room in the Department of Mysteries that contains love, the most powerful, awesome, wonderful force on earth. That room is kept permanently locked, such is the strength of its power. It is because of love that you went to save Draco this evening, why Narcissa did the same. It is because of love that you were able to Occlude tonight. You could not stand to see Severus getting tortured and so you found the strength within you to shield yourself from Voldemort. And, of course, love is what drove Lily to sacrifice herself for you, thus giving you your blood protection. It is a powerful force, boys, which you would do well not to underestimate.”

“I still don't get how that's supposed to help me against Voldemort, Professor,” Harry said.

“Why else would you want to go after him?” Dumbledore asked.

“Because I have to. The prophecy -”

“Not all prophecies come true, Harry,” Dumbledore said.

“Then why is this one so important?” Harry asked, completely confused now.

“This prophecy is important because Voldemort believes it to be. It is because he places such store by the prophecy that he will continue to try to kill you. _And either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives_. Voldemort believes that you are the only person who can kill him, and so he will never cease trying to kill you first,” said Dumbledore. “And, curiously, of the two possible candidates in the prophecy, Voldemort chose to go after you, the half-blood, and not the pure-blooded Neville. He thought you were the bigger threat, though he tells his followers that half-bloods are not that much better than Muggle-borns.”

Harry shrugged one shoulder. “I already knew he's a hypocrite.”

“He is,” Dumbledore agreed. “But even if the prophecy did not exist, you would still want him dead, would you not?”

“Well, yeah, he killed my parents,” Harry said.

“Exactly! Because of the love you bear them, you want to avenge them. It is this that will drive you to fight Voldemort. Not because it has been foretold, but because he has hurt those you love,” Dumbledore said.

“I'm not the only one, though,” Harry said. “If that's all it comes down to, if the prophecy doesn't matter, there are heaps of people who want him dead. What about Tracey's family? Her parents have fought off both Death Eaters and at least one Inferius before.”

“True, but Voldemort marked you as his equal, Harry, leaving you with that scar on your forehead,” said Dumbledore gently. “He also left you with the very tools necessary to defeat him. In acting upon the prophecy, Voldemort helped mould you into the man who could one day defeat him. Not only do you have Lily's protection and a desire for revenge, but you also have the incredibly rare gift of Parseltongue, as well as the unique mental link you share with Voldemort. And yet you have never once been tempted to join him, have you?”

“Of course not. He killed my parents,” Harry repeated. “Well, two of them, anyway.”

“You see? You are protected by your ability to love,” Dumbledore said triumphantly. “The point I am trying to make, Harry, is that you do not have to kill Voldemort because of the prophecy. He will keep hunting you, of course, because he _does_ believe in it. You, though, could ignore its existence and flee overseas if you wished. But because of who you are, because you are able to love, you will hunt him down.”

“I don't get the difference,” Harry admitted. “Either way I need to kill him.”

“What the Headmaster is trying to say is that you are not bound to do anything merely because of the prophecy, but that you _will_ try to kill him because of who you are,” Severus explained. “It is the difference between being conscripted into the army and volunteering to enlist.”

Harry nodded slowly. He didn't feel like killing anyone right now – he just wanted to collapse into bed – but he thought that, if given some proper training, he would be able to face Voldemort. “Okay,” he said. “I think I get it.”

Severus got to his feet. “Good. It's high time we were examined by Poppy. Unless there was something else, Albus?”

Dumbledore shook his head and bent back over the Pensieve. “I think this was enough to be getting on with for one night.”

Harry followed Severus back through the Floo to the infirmary. The room was dimly lit, but Harry could make out Umbridge sleeping in a bed in the far corner. And closer to Harry was -

“Draco!” he cried.

He hurried over to Draco's bed, where he, too, was fast asleep. Harry glanced at the bedside table and was unsurprised to see a bottle of Dreamless Sleep sitting there. When he heard footsteps behind him, Harry reached out and rubbed his thumb over Draco's hand, then turned around to see Pomfrey conversing quietly with Severus. Pomfrey nodded briskly and bustled over to Harry.

“I was wondering how long it would be before you arrived, Mr Potter. Though I see you're standing on your own for once,” she said, then shooed him over to the bed next the Draco's.

Harry sat down on the edge of the bed. “Did Dad tell you he was knocked out? I think he's concussed.”

Pomfrey shot a sharp look at Severus, who swallowed. “No, he did not. I'll get to him shortly.”

Harry nodded. “Will Draco be okay? What about the rest of my friends?”

“Mr Black's physical injuries have been healed, but I imagine he may have some residual psychological stress for some time. Your other friends had minor injuries and have been treated and sent back to their common rooms. Arm,” she said, holding out a hand. 

Harry dutifully rested his arm in her hand and watched as she twirled her wand slowly above it, with light blue light emanating from her wand tip. “How long does he have to take the Dreamless Sleep for? Is that all he's taking?”

Pomfrey didn't reply immediately, instead continuing to inspect Harry's arm. She frowned when she got to his shoulder and the wand light turned into a darker blue. “I need to see this shoulder,” she said. While Harry struggled out of his jumper and shirt, she finally answered him. “Mr Black wants to stop taking the Dreamless Sleep after tonight, though I have told him to return if he suffers excessively from nightmares or disrupted sleep. He has taken some other potions, primarily Skele-Gro, but has no continuing medications.”

She raised her hand to Harry's shoulder, which he could now see was inflamed, and prodded it gently with her hand. 

“Ah!” Harry gritted his teeth at the stabbing pain.

Pomfrey straightened up, seemingly unsurprised by what she'd found, and walked over to a medicine cupboard, returning with a tiny black jar. She unscrewed it and smeared some of its pink contents on Harry's shoulder. It hurt at first, but after a few seconds he couldn't even feel her hand's movement.

Pomfrey screwed the jar shut again and handed it to Harry. “The potion your father gave you has treated the finer nerve damage, but this is to treat the impact site of the curse. Use the rest of this ointment, twice a day, and your shoulder will be back to normal in no time.”

“Thank you, ma'am,” Harry said. He quickly got dressed again and stood up. “Can I go?”

“Of course,” Pomfrey, then clicked her tongue when Severus made to follow Harry. “Not so fast, Severus. You were knocked unconscious and could very well be concussed. I need to examine you, and then you're staying here overnight for observation.”

Severus opened his mouth to argue, then shut it with a sigh. “Very well.”

Harry snuffed a laugh at Severus' sulky tone. “I'll come back down after breakfast.”

“I shan't be here,” Severus replied.

Pomfrey pushed him over to the bed Harry had just vacated. “That's for me to decide, not you,” she said, before walking back to the medicine cabinet.

Severus sat down onto the bed in resignation. Harry reached over and squeezed his shoulder. “Thank you for coming after me tonight.”

Severus stopped sulking. “I will always protect you, Harry. Always.”

Harry smiled. “I love you too, by the way.”

Severus cleared his throat. “I know. Now go to bed.”

Harry smiled again and left the infirmary, though his levity soon faded as he walked down the empty corridor, and the events of the past few hours came rushing back to him. They'd come so close to losing that night, to dying... Harry gave a shiver and sped up, eager to get back to the familiar comfort of his dormitory.

He hissed at the entrance to the common room in Parseltongue and walked into a crowded room. Unlike years past, people weren't laughing and celebrating the end of exams. Most people were gathered into groups, tensely talking amongst themselves. Harry ignored everyone and skirted the edge of the room, heading for the corridor that housed the dormitories. He was halfway there before he was noticed and people immediately started yelling out and crowding around him. 

“Hey, it's Potter!”

“Harry!”

“What happened?”

“Where's Draco?”

“Where's Scarlett?”

“Is it true you were held for ransom?”

Harry kept his head down and pressed on, squirming through the closing crowd until he was alone in the corridor to the boys' dorms. He let out a relieve sigh and walked into his dorm, which was blissfully empty and quiet. He walked over to his bed and started getting changed into his pyjamas. 

He was buttoning up his pyjama shirt when Ladon dropped down off the top of Harry's bed into his lap. “ _You're back! Is Draco out of danger? What happened?_ ”

“ _Draco's fine_ ,” Harry said, automatically stroking Ladon's neck. “ _If you can wait until tomorrow morning, I can tell you what happened along with Draco. I know he'll want to hear all about you biting Umbridge for him_.” 

Ladon nodded then wound up Harry's arm, to rest along his shoulders. “ _I can wait until then, I suppose. I'm just pleased you're back safely_.”

As Ladon settled down to sleep, the door burst open, admitting Blaise, Theo, Pansy, Tracey, Millicent, Daphne and Archie.

“You're okay!” Daphne exclaimed, running over to hug Harry, carefully avoiding Ladon.

“Yeah,” he gasped as her arms crushed his ribs.

“What happened?” Tracey asked urgently. “Sinistra told us that you were all back safely but she didn't give us any details.”

Harry reached up to stroke Ladon's neck. “I don't really want to talk about it.”

“Can you at least tell us if Ginny's okay?” asked Blaise.

“And Scarlett and Luna,” Archie added.

“Guys, I just want to go to sleep,” said Harry.

“If you tell us now, I can be your spokeswoman and you won't have to tell anyone else,” Pansy said.

Harry hesitated, then smiled tiredly at her. “Yeah, alright. That sounds good.”

And so Harry found himself spending a good hour talking to his friends about what exactly had happened. Some of it they already knew: Archie had been there when Draco had been kidnapped, of course, and had run to tell Sinistra and Flitwick. The others, however, had heard nothing first hand, and rumours had been flying around the school.

“As soon as I raised the alarm, Sinistra and Flitwick got us all back into the school grounds,” Archie said.

“Us Prefects had to help get everyone into the Great Hall, and the Heads of Houses took the roll,” Pansy added. “That's when we found out that it wasn't just Draco missing: that you, Hermione, Scarlett, Luna, Ginny and Neville were also missing.”

“And then, of course, it dawned on us Slytherins that Snape was absent as well,” said Tracey. “Zubeida told Sinistra but the staff already knew, of course. Then we all got marched to our common rooms for the night. We had dinner in there, and Sinistra actually sat with us until she got the all clear that you guys were okay.”

Harry nodded and launched into his explanation of what had occurred after he'd been told about Draco's kidnapping. He faltered when he got to the part where he'd realised that the Draco he had found had not, in fact, been Draco, when he had realised that he was talking to an imposter. He cleared his throat and continued his story, describing the ensuing chase and fights as best he could.

When he reached the part where Scarlett was set on fire, Archie whimpered and bit her lip so hard Harry expected to see blood. Daphne wrapped an arm around her and rubbed her back soothingly. After assuring Archie that Scarlett was fine and would soon be back at Hogwarts, Harry resumed his story, rendering all of his friends speechless when he told them that Narcissa had killed Malfoy.

“She actually used the Killing Curse?” Millicent asked, wide-eyed.

“Yeah. She's in hiding now, and my dad doesn't think she'll end up in Azkaban,” said Harry. A look at Theo told him he'd figured out exactly where Narcissa was holed up.

“I can't believe Draco's mum killed his dad,” Daphne said softly.

“I can,” Theo said shortly.

Harry didn't like the ugly look on Theo's face – he looked almost jealous – so he hurriedly went back to his story. There was much wincing and flinching whenever he uttered Voldemort's name, but he wasn't interrupted for the rest of the tale. 

“You were bloody lucky to get out of there, all of you,” Millicent said.

“Believe me, I know,” Harry said.

“Was my father there?” Theo asked quietly.

“I don't know,” Harry said. “Apart from Malfoy and Bellatrix, everyone else was masked and hooded. Malfoy mentioned Rodolphus Lestrange and Walden Macnair by name, but I've no idea about the others.”

Theo nodded grimly. “I'll find out when it's reported in the _Prophet_ , then. The Death Eaters left behind were all arrested, yeah?”

“I assume so,” Harry said.

Tracey slipped her hand into Theo's. “So, the prophecy – did you hear it before the orb was smashed?”

Harry shook his head. “No, it was too chaotic.”

“Don't you want to know what it said?” asked Pansy.

“Of course. But it's gone now,” Harry said. He felt guilty about not telling his friends the truth, but he wasn't being entirely untrue. The recording of the prophecy _was_ gone, and Harry _hadn't_ heard it before the orb was destroyed.

“But it was about you and You-Know-Who?” asked Archie.

“Yeah,” Harry said.

“That just about sums up your life, doesn't it?” Millicent asked.

Harry met her blue eyes, softer than he'd ever seen them. “Yeah,” he said again. “Yeah, it does.”


	33. In Which Gemma's Plotting Against Umbridge Finally Pays Off

Harry woke up just after six the next morning, eager to get to the hospital wing. He dutifully spread the pink salve on his shoulder, then dressed quickly and went up to breakfast. Given that it was a Sunday, the Great Hall was nearly deserted when he got there. Harry sat hunched over at one end of the Slytherin table, not wanting to talk to anyone who might be inclined to ask him about the previous night. He grabbed a few slices of toast and began to scarf them down, wanting to get up to the infirmary as soon as he could.  


" _Frigoreo_ ,” he muttered, aiming his wand at his tea. He sipped it and smirked: his Cooling Charm had cooled the tea just enough that he could drink it in a hurry without burning himself.

“You'll make yourself sick if you keep that up.”

Harry turned in his seat to find Hermione standing behind him. He gulped down the tea in his mouth. “I want to see Draco.”

“I know,” she said, sitting down on the bench next to him. “But he'll still be there if you take an extra five minutes and avoid choking.”

She poured her own cup of tea and picked up a muffin. Harry watched her eat it calmly and then nodded, accepting defeat. “Yeah, okay,” he said. He speared a sausage with his fork and took a bite.

“So what happened to you after Draco, Neville and I left last night?” Hermione asked.

“You don't know?” Harry asked.

Hermione arched a brow over her tea. “How could I? We got tended to by Pomfrey and then Burbage came to escort Neville and I up to our common room. I know that Ginny and Luna arrived in the infirmary after we'd left – Ginny came up to the common room about half an hour after we'd gotten there.”

“Huh,” Harry said. “I'll tell you along with Draco. I think all three of us have some stories to tell.”

Hermione hummed her assent. “I hope he's not too upset. He seemed fine, if a little shaken when I left the infirmary last night.”

“We'll find out soon, I guess,” Harry said a little nervously.

Hermione nodded, finished her muffin, and wiped her hands on her napkin. “Shall we?”

Draco was finishing his own breakfast when Harry and Hermione walked into the infirmary. “About time you got here,” he said, though he was smiling.

Harry and Hermione walked past Umbridge, who was being tended to by Pomfrey. “I've already told you, Professor Umbridge, there aren't any snakes in my infirmary! You're just having nightmares – I can give you some Dreamless Sleep if you want.”

“Should I feel guilty that she's having nightmares about snakes?” Harry asked once they'd reached Draco's bed. “Because I don't.”

“I think you were justified,” Hermione said quietly.

“And it's not your fault, anyway,” Draco said. “I'll tell you once we're out of here.”

“You're allowed out today?” asked Hermione.

“Pomfrey said as soon as I finished breakfast I was free to go,” Draco said.

Pomfrey either heard her name or had gotten sick of Umbridge, because she was at Draco's bedside not ten seconds later. “All done, Mr Black?”

“Yes, ma'am,” he said.

“How's your arm feel?” she asked.

Draco flexed his left hand. “Back to normal. Thank you.”

Pomfrey smiled at him. “In that case, you may leave whenever you want.”

“How's my dad?” asked Harry.

“As you said, he had a concussion, but I patched him up for you. He high-tailed it out of here earlier this morning,” said Pomfrey.

She removed Draco's breakfast tray and walked off. Harry and Hermione pulled the curtains shut and stepped outside them so that Draco could get changed into his own clothes, then the three of them left the infirmary.

“Let's go sit by the lake,” Draco suggested.

A few minutes later they were walking down the castle steps into what looked set to be a lovely sunny day. There was no one else out in the grounds, for which Harry was grateful.

“So how are Umbridge's nightmares not my fault? I did set a lethal snake on her yesterday,” Harry said.

Draco laughed and took Harry's hand. “Yes, your father told me about that. But they're not nightmares – she was seeing real snakes.”

Harry and Hermione frowned at each other. “What d'you mean?” asked Harry.

Draco laughed again. “Snape was in the bed next to me last night and he woke up disgustingly early this morning. Apparently, Pomfrey had told him he wasn't allowed to leave until she'd seen him. I don't know what she threatened him with, but he didn't even get out of bed until she'd looked him over.”

“What's this got to do with Umbridge?” asked Harry.

“Because your father got bored waiting, and decided the best way to amuse himself was to conjure snakes in order to mess with Umbridge. Naturally, their hissing also woke me up. Once I saw what he was doing, I started telling the snakes to climb up onto Umbridge's bed. Whenever her whimpering got too loud, your father Vanished the snakes before Pomfrey could come out, and after she'd returned to her office we'd start all over again.”

Harry and Hermione both burst out laughing. “I feel like I should disapprove,” Hermione said.

“But you don't,” Draco said.

“No, though if it were anyone else I probably would,” she replied. She hesitated, then said softly, “You're in good spirits this morning.”

“Why wouldn't I be?” asked Draco.

Hermione looked at Harry before replying. “Your father was killed right in front of you. I know, you haven't got along with him in a while, but -”

“Not since he nearly got both of you killed, no. For some reason that put somewhat of a strain on our relationship,” Draco replied.

“Yes, but even so -”

“Hermione,” Draco said fiercely, “if you're about to say that he was still my father, don't. Just don't, alright? He tortured both me and Mother. He tried to kill her and both of you! I'm glad he's dead.”

“He wasn't lying, then, last night? He used the Cruciatus Curse on you?” Harry asked, sickened.

Draco swallowed. “No, he wasn't lying. When Bellatrix Disapparated with me, I managed to twist out of her grip. I made a run for it when we landed, and my father used that Curse to subdue me. It might not have been as instantaneous as Stunning me, but just as effective. It was Bellatrix who broke my arm, though. They'd already taken my wand off me by that point. She – she did it just for fun.”

Harry squeezed Draco's hand, unable to think of anything to say. Hermione looked to be on the verge of tears.

“And then they took you to the Ministry?” she asked.

“Yes. My father took some of my hair and used it in the Polyjuice, then transfigured his robes to look like the ones I was wearing. He and one of the Death Eaters went off to lay their trap for you, and I was left with the others to wait,” said Draco.

“You must have known that we'd come rescue you,” Hermione said.

Draco nodded. “I never doubted that you'd come after us. And even though I knew that that was exactly what they wanted you to do and that they needed Harry there for their plan to work, I was so glad that you were coming. I knew you'd be running into danger and I was selfish enough to still want you to do it.”

“That's not selfish,” Harry said at once. “Of course you'd want someone to come save you. I wanted the same thing last year, in the graveyard.”

“But you got yourself out of that,” Draco pointed out. 

They'd reached the rock they always sat at. Draco pulled his hand out of Harry's and sat down, leaning against the rock. Harry sat down and reclaimed Draco's hand.

“Yeah, well, I had that wand connection thing helping me. You didn't even have your wand,” Harry argued.

“But you got it back, didn't you? After – after everything?” Hermione asked.

Draco shrugged. “No. I assume it's still at the Ministry somewhere. It is evidence, after all. And anyway, I'm going to get a new wand.”

“What for?” asked Harry.

“Because mine was used to torture my mother. I could never use it again knowing what it was used to do. I don't want to ever see it again,” said Draco.

Harry's stomach twisted at that, and he pulled out his own wand. There was nothing to suggest that it had cast an Unforgivable the night before, nothing outwardly evil about it. It still looked and felt the same as it always had. 

“What is it, Harry?” asked Hermione.

“Voldemort used this to torture my dad last night. I haven't used it since,” Harry said quietly.

“Get rid of it,” Draco said immediately.

“I can't,” said Harry. “My wand and Voldemort's have the same core, remember? I can't throw away something that can help me like that. I know that Dad would say the same thing, despite what happened to him.”

Before he could stop her, Hermione had leaned over and taken Harry's wand out of his hand.

“Hey!” Harry protested.

Hermione ignored him. “ _Expecto patronum_.”

Her magpie shot out of Harry's wand and fluttered above their group. Harry couldn't help feeling cheered by its presence.

“There,” Hermione said, handing him back his wand. “Now the last spell that it's performed is something positive.”

Harry smiled at her. “Thank you.”

“So what happened yesterday? Your father told me some of it – you actually told Ladon to bite Umbridge! I wish I could've seen that!” Draco said.

Hermione's Patronus faded away as she and Harry told Draco about getting to the Ministry and finding their way into the Hall of Prophecy and the ensuing confrontation before Draco had been hauled in for the trade off. They swapped stories of what had happened after that. 

It turned out that the devastation in the Hall of Prophecy was the result of Ginny casting a Reductor Curse just after Severus' Blasting Curse, toppling the shelves and allowing the others to escape. Hermione had fled the Hall of Prophecy with Kingsley, and they'd had a far easier time getting to the Atrium than Harry and Draco had, encountering no Death Eaters on their way. Draco, Narcissa and Sirius had arrived shortly after Hermione, and they'd been on their way to the Floo when Malfoy and Macnair had caught up to them and attacked, a few minutes before Harry had been swept out of the lift.

Harry then told Hermione and Draco about Voldemort arriving just after they'd gotten away, and of the battle between Dumbledore and Voldemort. He faltered a bit when he got up to talking about how he'd been possessed by Voldemort and made to torture Severus. 

“You can't blame yourself, Harry,” Hermione said gently.

“Yeah, that's what Dad said,” Harry said. He looked down at the ground, where he'd been ripping up grass and throwing it into the wind. “But I should have been able to Occlude quicker. I'll do better next time.”

“Hopefully there won't be a next time,” Draco said.

Harry snorted. “We all know that Voldemort wants me dead, and why wouldn't he try this again?”

“You can practice Occlumency over summer,” Hermione said. “Just don't blame yourself for what happened.”

“Yeah, okay,” Harry said, tiring of the subject. “Were Ginny and Luna okay last night?”

“Ginny says they were both fine,” Hermione said. “Shaken, obviously, but no major injuries. They were with Tonks and Moody and got caught up in a fight with a few Death Eaters in the Department of Mysteries. One of the Death Eaters cast some spell in the spinning room that kept the room spinning, so that they couldn't escape. Luna got hit with a hex that made her hallucinate and Ginny got Stunned, but Tonks was able to Revive Ginny and Pomfrey apparently got Luna back to normal.”

“Or as normal as she gets, anyway,” Draco said with a grin. “I was still awake when they came into the infirmary. Luna was completely out of it and talking gibberish – and I mean actual gibberish, it wasn't even English – but after she'd been treated, Luna actually told Pomfrey that she shouldn't have done anything. She said that she'd been communing with the Moon Sprites, and that the potions she drank made her lose the ability to see or hear them.”

“Bet Pomfrey loved that,” Harry said.

“I think she's had some experience with Luna, because she just sighed and sent her up to bed,” Draco said.

“Sounds about right,” Hermione said.

“What about Scarlett?” Draco asked.

“Dumbledore says her eye will be fine, and she should be back soon,” Harry said.

“Good,” Draco said emphatically.

Harry got to his feet. “Speaking of being back, Dumbledore said last night that Hagrid would be back any day now. Want to go see if he's home yet?”

“Sounds good to me,” Hermione said.

“Sure,” Draco agreed.

The three of them took their time walking around the castle to Hagrid's cabin. The sun was up properly now, and Harry almost found it hard to believe that there was a war building when the day was so cheerful.

Almost.

Harry was expecting to see Hagrid sitting on his front step with Fang lying lazily by his side, or perhaps working in his vegetable patch. He was therefore disappointed when they arrived at Hagrid's cabin and found it as tightly shut up as it had been for the entirety of Hagrid's absence. The curtains were all pulled closed and there wasn't any smoke rising from the chimney. Harry knocked half-heartedly on the door and got no answer.

“What do you want to do now?” he asked.

He had a burning desire to be doing something. He knew that if he sat down and chatted with Hermione and Draco, he'd end up telling them the full contents of the prophecy, and he didn't feel up to it just then. He would tell them eventually – over summer, maybe, when he'd had a chance to properly come to grips with it himself. 

The decision of what to do was made for them.

“HARRY!”

The three of them turned to find two women walking up the drive. They'd clearly been on their way up to the castle, only to detour when they saw Harry.

“It's Gemma!” Draco cried in delight, walking forward to meet them.

“And I guess that must be her boss, Amelia Bones,” Harry said, following more slowly.

“What do they want with you now?” Hermione asked.

Harry felt as worried as Hermione sounded. “No idea...”

“Lighten up,” Draco said. “Do you really think Gemma would be so happy if you were in trouble?”

“Good point,” Harry said.

Gemma and the other woman came to stop before them. Gemma's companion was a middle-aged witch dressed in severe black robes and with a monocle over one eye. With her wide shoulders, square jaw and calculating gaze, Harry immediately got the impression that this was not a woman with whom to trifle.

“Amelia Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement,” she said briskly. “I understand you already know my assistant, Ms Farley.”

Gemma beamed at them, but when she spoke she sounded completely professional. “Ma'am, this is Draco Black and Hermione Granger, two of the combatants from last night.”

“I've heard you all performed admirably,” Bones said.

“Thank you, ma'am,” Harry said warily.

Bones' face relaxed into what Harry thought might be a smile. “Mr Potter, you are not in any trouble over your actions last night. I'm here on other business, but since I've run into you, I'd like to speak to you about making a statement about the Dementor attack in Surrey last July.”

Harry blinked in surprise. “I – er – yes, ma'am.”

“I'd like to talk in private,” Bones said, looking pointedly at Draco and Hermione.

Harry glanced around the otherwise empty grounds. “Sorry, ma'am, but can my friends stay for this?”

“Told you,” Gemma said with a grin.

“So you did,” Bones acknowledged. “Very well, Miss Granger and Mr Black may stay if you wish, Mr Potter.”

“Yes, please,” Harry said. Even with Gemma there, he didn't want to be alone with a Ministry official if he could at all help it. Draco's knowledge of the way that the Ministry operated and Hermione's shrewd intelligence could come in very handy.

Bones' face settled back into its stern expression. “Mr Potter, your version of events was troubling to me. I didn't want to believe that the Ministry could have lost control of the Azkaban Dementors, but as the only other option was that someone from within the Ministry had orchestrated the attack – well, I'm sure you can understand my reluctance to believe that. Nonetheless, Ms Farley's insistence of your integrity was unwavering, and I eventually began personally investigating the matter a few months ago. I came here today to bring in my suspect for questioning.”

“Shouldn't you have Aurors with you if you're arresting someone?” Draco butted in.

Bones gave him a decidedly cool stare. “The day that I need an Auror's help to bring a suspect in for questioning is the day that I retire from my career, Mr Black.”

Draco reddened. “Sorry, ma'am.”

“I'm sure he meant no offence, ma'am,” Gemma said quickly. “Draco's close to a couple of Aurors – they probably just make it sound like they do all the work.”

“Typical Aurors,” Bones said, her expression warming. “Now, Mr Potter, I am needed back at the Ministry as soon as possible, so I don't have time to take your statement today. I shall contact you by owl after I have questioned the suspect.”

“When will that be?” asked Harry.

“I imagine it will be after you have returned home – my department has more pressing matters, as I'm sure you can understand. I had to call in a favour just to get an hour to come here this morning, but I shan't bore you with Ministerial politics,” Bones said. 

Hermione shifted in a way that made Harry certain she was dying to know all about said Ministerial politics, but didn't want to interrupt Bones like Draco had.

“I'll be in touch, Mr Potter. Let's go, Farley,” Bones said.

She set off for the castle with Gemma trotting beside her. Harry watched them leave, then turned back to his friends. 

“Who do you think they're arresting?” he asked.

“Gee, let's think,” Draco said sarcastically. “Who here at Hogwarts has hated you since you first met? Who has made you torture yourself and tried to feed you potions against your will?”

“Umbridge!” Harry gasped. “You think?”

“If it's not her, then that means someone else at Hogwarts arranged the attack,” Hermione said.

“I hope not. I've got enough people wanting to kill me,” Harry said.

“Only one way to find out,” Draco said.

The three of them began walking back up to the castle, by now a good hundred metres behind Gemma and Bones. They passed through the Entrance Hall, which was currently busy with students making their way to breakfast, and walked up the marble staircase.

“Should we warn them about the swamp?” Hermione whispered in the sudden quiet.

“I'm sure they'll figure it out,” Harry replied.

Sure enough, they found the corridor outside Umbridge's office had been cleared entirely of the swamp. The three of them crept down the corridor, where they could hear Umbridge's voice raised in anger.

“This is preposterous! I didn't do it!”

“The evidence says otherwise,” came Bones' curt reply. “Now, you can either come quietly or we can do this in front of the whole school.”

“When I tell the Minister -”

“Who do you think gave me the go ahead to come up here today?” Bones asked.

There was a long pause, then Umbridge said, very sourly, “Fine. But be warned, Madam Bones, that I shall remember this.”

“I wouldn't expect otherwise,” Bones said, then, “Farley.”

“Is that really necessary?” Umbridge cried a few seconds later.

“Standard procedure, Umbridge. Let's move,” Bones said.

She emerged from the office a moment later, leading Umbridge by her arm. Umbridge's hands were bound in front of her – she'd obviously objected to Gemma binding her. Gemma herself brought up the rear, keeping her wand trained on Umbridge.

As the women drew level with the three eavesdropping teenagers, Harry could have sworn that Bones gave them a furtive smile. Umbridge gave all three of them a look of pure loathing, but kept her mouth shut. Gemma, on the other hand, gave a wide grin as she passed. It was clear that she was thoroughly enjoying the entire situation.

Harry, Hermione and Draco followed them back towards the staircase. There were quite a few Gryffindors and Ravenclaws walking down the staircase to get to breakfast, all of whom stopped to gape when they saw Umbridge being led away. By the time the three women got to the Entrance Hall, there was quite a crowd of excited students trailing after them, talking loudly and happily about the fact that Umbridge was being dragged out of the school. More students came wandering out of the Great Hall to see what all the commotion was about, and there was an almost festival like atmosphere as everyone walked down to the front gates to see Umbridge off. 

To Harry's surprise, Flitwick was waiting at the gates. He unlocked the gates and bowed to Bones as she left the school grounds. Bones immediately Disapparated, taking Umbridge with her. Gemma followed a moment later, after curtsying to the crowd. Flitwick locked the gates again and turned to face the assembled students, many of whom were still cheering Umbridge's departure.

“I'd better go tell the Headmaster the good news,” he said to nobody in particular. Those who heard him laughed, and Flitwick walked back up to the castle, whistling cheerfully.

Scarlett and McGonagall returned to Hogwarts together later that day. Harry didn't see either of them until dinner time. McGonagall was seated at the staff table between Severus and Sprout, all three of them talking rather animatedly to each other. 

Scarlett, however, was sitting with Archie at the Slytherin table, quieter and more subdued than Harry had ever seen her. She had an eye-patch over her left eye which didn't quite conceal the raw, red scar that stretched from beside her nose, over her eye and up to her ear. Her left eyebrow and a patch of hair behind her ear were missing. Harry and Draco sat down opposite them.

“How are you feeling?” Harry asked her.

Scarlett touched her eye-patch self-consciously. “Okay, I guess. I've got to wear this thing for a couple of weeks to let my eye fully heal, and they think my hair will mostly grow back. I've got a salve to put on the scar that should make it fade, but they don't think it will fade entirely.”

Draco shifted uncomfortably. “I'm – I – thank you.”

Scarlett gave a wan smile. “Like I wasn't going to go after my fellow Chaser.”

“No, seriously, thank you,” Draco said earnestly.

Archie elbowed her. “And hey, you look like a pirate now.”

Scarlett brightened a bit. “Yeah, you're right. I just need a peg leg.”

“Or a parrot,” Harry suggested.

“Ooh, yeah, I could teach it swear words,” Scarlett said.

She spent the rest of the meal chattering with Archie and Harry about her hypothetical parrot, though Harry couldn't help but notice that Draco wasn't joining in. He wasn't the only one. Once dinner was over, instead of heading back to the common room, Scarlett dragged Draco off to talk. By the time Draco returned to the dorm, Harry was in his pyjamas, lying on his bed with Ladon.

“You look happier,” he said to Draco, shifting over so that Draco could join him on the bed.

“I am. Scarlett doesn't blame me for what happened to her,” Draco said, reaching out to stroke Ladon, “though I'm now buying her a parrot.”

“You're what?” Harry asked, half-convinced he'd misheard.

Draco chuckled. “I offered to get her one as a joke. You know, to go with her eye-patch. I didn't think she'd take me up on it, but she did, so... I am. Want to come with me sometime in the holidays?”

“Sure,” Harry said. “Where do you buy parrots from?”

“Buggered if I know,” Draco said. “Anyway, can I sleep here for the rest of term?”

“Sure,” Harry said again, more slowly. “Why?”

Draco looked across the room at his own bed. “Because that used to be my father's, and I don't want to ever touch it again. I'm going to go speak to your father tomorrow about getting it replaced.”

Harry nodded, not entirely surprised that Draco would feel that way. “I'll come with you if you want me to.”

“Maybe,” Draco said, then smiled down at Ladon. “ _I hear I owe you some thanks for biting Umbridge for me_.”

“ _I'll say_ ,” Ladon replied. “ _tasted terrible. If all humans taste like that, I'm never biting another one again_.”

********

  
The remaining few days of term seemed to fly by to Harry. He spent most of his time holed up in his dorm with his friends, or down by the lake with Draco and Hermione, sometimes joined by Neville or some combination of Scarlett, Archie, Luna and Ginny.

He tried to avoid the rest of the school as much as possible. When the _Prophet_ had broken the news about Voldemort's return (only a year late), most of the student body seemed determined to prove that they'd believed Harry's story all along. Pansy was in her element, telling anyone who would listen exactly what had happened at the Ministry, but even so, some people tried to speak to Harry, to press him for further information. He simply couldn't be bothered dealing with them. He was dreading the conversation he would have to have, where he told Draco and Hermione about the full contents of the prophecy, and he decided that that was all the unpleasant conversation he was up for.

The only exception he made was for Hagrid, when he returned to Hogwarts. Together with Hermione and Draco, Harry walked down to Hagrid's cabin as soon as they saw smoke issuing from the chimney. They spent the afternoon with him, telling him about their battle at the Ministry, and in turn, hearing about Hagrid's life on the run, hiding up in the mountains near Hogwarts, and his eventual reunion with Grawp. 

Theo was delighted when Severus called him into his office to inform him that his father had been arrested at the Ministry. He had been one of the Death Eaters fighting Ginny and Luna. Despite his father's incarceration, however, Theo would still be returning to Grimmauld Place for the summer holidays, for his own protection. Vince's father turned out to the be the Death Eater who had been unconscious in the Hall of Prophecy. He had suffered no lasting injuries, and was taken to Azkaban the same day as Theo's dad. 

Vince was far less pleased about this than Theo was, and tried unsuccessfully to hex Harry and Draco, who he blamed for his father's arrest. It took three trips to the hospital wing before Greg managed to convince him that this was an unwise course of action. Greg himself seemed perplexed by the entire situation. His father had not been at the Ministry, so he didn't feel the anger Vince did. He mostly stuck to Vince's side, but Harry couldn't help noticing that the duo were seen apart far more than they usually were. 

The Leaving Feast turned out exactly as Harry had expected it would. There was a pall hanging over the crowd due to the confirmation of Voldemort's return, but at the same time, everyone was happy that Umbridge had been taken away. Dumbledore's speech was much the same as it had been the year before, warning everyone of the dangers of Voldemort and his Death Eaters, and exhorting them to be good. Harry spent the speech watching the staff table; even from down at the Slytherin table, he could tell from Severus' expression that, like Harry, he was wondering how Dumbledore's entire speech hadn't just been “I told you so”.

Hufflepuff had been announced as the winners of the House Cup. On top of the points they got for winning the Quidditch Cup, they had also lost the least points to Umbridge and her Inquisitorial Squad. Theo, Tracey, Pansy and Millicent spent much of the feast plotting revenge against the members of the Inquisitorial Squad who would be returning the following year, but Harry tuned them out. He had no thirst for revenge for something that was, in the grand scheme of things, rather petty – not when he had to face the prospect of killing Voldemort. 

More immediately, however, he was worried about the fact that Draco didn't seem to want revenge either. He'd been watching Draco closely since they returned from the Ministry, and though he seemed cheerful, Harry couldn't help but feel that something was off. He tried not to worry about it, however. Draco was probably just recovering from what had been a traumatic ordeal – and if there was something deeper going on, Harry would be able to get to the bottom of it over summer, away from the curious eyes of a couple hundred other students. 

The trip back to London took place on a warm, sunny day. After breakfast, Harry and Draco met Hermione in the Entrance Hall and then headed out together to the waiting carriages. They'd only gone a few steps out of the castle when all three stopped abruptly.

Standing in front of the school carriages were a herd of skeletal, black winged horses. Taller and longer than regular horses, their fleshless bodies and blank white eyes gave them an eerie appearance, though they seemed tame enough. Each one was harnessed to a carriage, waiting patiently for the students to board the carriages. 

“Thestrals,” Hermione breathed. “Of course, we'd all be able to see them after – after everything.”

Both she and Harry turned to look at Draco, who was regarding the Thestrals thoughtfully. “Too bad Mother didn't kill my father earlier. Being able to see Thestrals might have helped when we were studying them in class,” he said, then resumed dragging his trunk down towards the carriages.

Behind him, Harry met Hermione's gaze, finding her just as troubled by Draco's words as he himself was.

“This can't be a good reaction,” Hermione murmured.

“Maybe not,” Harry said, “but he's going home. Narcissa, Kingsley, Sirius and Remus will all be there to keep an eye on him.”

“True,” Hermione conceded, though she still looked a little uneasy when they followed Draco into the carriage.

The carriage was halfway to Hogsmeade Station when Draco suddenly grabbed Harry's hand in a crushing grip. Harry looked at him in alarm to find Draco staring wide-eyed out the window at a copse of trees. It took Harry a second to realise that it must be the place where Draco had been kidnapped. He didn't say anything, just squeezed Draco's hand back. It took a minute or so, but eventually he blinked a few times then smiled at Harry.

“I'm fine. It's just the first time I've gone past there, that's all,” he said.

“Yeah, I get that,” Harry said, ignoring the meaningful look Hermione was giving him.

Harry could tell she wanted to talk about Draco, but she never got the chance to on the Hogwarts Express. The three of them were joined in their compartment by Scarlett, Archie, Luna, Ginny and Neville. Together with everyone's pets, they were a noisy group. Hermione and Ginny were talking about the trip Hermione was planning on making to Bulgaria, to visit Viktor; Scarlett was talking to Harry, Draco and Archie about what type of parrot she was thinking of getting; and Neville was showing Luna his Mimbulus mimbletonia, which had grown since Harry had last heard about it, and which was now capable of singing when touched. 

In what seemed like no time at all, the Hogwarts Express was pulling in King's Cross Station. For the first time in his life, Harry was just as cheerful as the rest of his friends as they got off the train. He would not have to spend even a minute in the Dursleys' company. Instead, he was getting picked up by his parent, just like everyone else. 

Sure enough, when they walked through the barrier between platforms nine and ten, Harry quickly found Severus waiting for him. He had his arms crossed and was scowling, but Harry knew that was because he was waiting with Sirius and Remus, and not because he was annoyed with Harry. Hermione hugged both Harry and Draco goodbye, promised to be in touch soon, and split off to find her own parents, leaving the boys to drag their trunks, owl cages and Ladon's basket over to the waiting adults, where they were soon joined by Theo.

While Draco and Theo greeted Remus, Sirius swept Harry into his usual bear hug then released him to ruffle his hair. “Glad to see you're doing okay,” Sirius said.

“You too,” Harry said.

Sirius grinned. “Can't deny I could've gone without ever seeing Bellatrix again, but I'll live. I'll talk to you soon, alright?”

“Yeah, count on it,” Harry nodded.

He turned to shake Remus' hand, then nodded a farewell at Theo and kissed Draco goodbye. “Let me know when you want to go parrot shopping.”

“Will do,” Draco said.

“Parrot shopping?” Sirius asked, as he moved over to hug Draco.

Harry laughed as Draco began to explain about Scarlett's parrot, then turned to Severus, who took Hedwig's cage off his hands. “Ready?”

Harry grinned at Severus. “Yeah. Let's go home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has read this far! It's been completely humbling to see how many people have been reading this series! Thank you for all the kudos and comments! I've really enjoyed reading your lovely, encouraging comments every week!
> 
> A HUGE thank you to my amazingly fabulous beta, Charlie_Paloma! Your input has been invaluable and it's been a blast working with you! <3


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